


A Chronological Rift

by TheArcReactor (Ashkka)



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Next Avengers: Heroes of Tomorrow, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anxiety, Avengers Mansion, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Battle of New York (Marvel), Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Gen, New York, Next Avengers: Heroes of Tomorrow (spoilers), Next Avengers: Heroes of Tomorrow - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Portals, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Iron Man 3, Pre-Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, The Tesseract (Marvel), Ultra City (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkka/pseuds/TheArcReactor
Summary: After Tony Stark failed to return through the portal in the Chitauri invasion, the Avengers find themselves at a loss. They saw to the destruction of the Chitaruri ship and Loki's incarceration... but was that all?When the Avengers find themselves scattered throughout time, their worst fears are confirmed: New York had just been the beginning of something much bigger and far moredeadlyA fic where time is not set-in-stone and the Avengers meet their sons and daughters (The Next Avengers).IN NEED OF REVISION AND WILL BE PAUSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE





	1. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the characters and dialogue (taken from the movie) are the property of Marvel. I claim no rights to them. 
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The Chitauri came into New York in full force, carving away chunks of building and spreading the Avengers’ defenses thin. For every soldier that the defenders took down, two more burst from the large hole in space above. It looked hopeless. 

 

\---

 

 _“Stark! We’ve got a nuke headed straight for the city!”_ Came Fury’s voice over the comms. He sounded panicked and out of breath, as though he had been in combat recently.

Tony Stark grunted as he collided with a bus stop, having just been hit by multiple shots from the Chitauri below. Chunks of plexiglass and wood flew in all directions as he smashed into it, collapsing the small complex. He skidded to a stop, buried in the debris. Twice, he tried to get back to his feet but was met with enemy fire. Vision swimming and head pounding, he shook his head to try and clear it. 

 _There's a nuclear bomb on its way_! He reminded himself with gritted teeth. 

 

_This is no time to slack off!_

“I’m on it!” He replied, feeling mildly sick.

Hoping that his armor would make it for just a little bit longer, Tony took off in an explosion of blue light. His destination: the missile that was now speeding across the bay. He ducked through the buildings, looping around skyscrapers and arcing into the sky, trailing smoke. Finally clearing the city, he sped out into the bay. Water sprayed in all directions as he skimmed the surface, sending waves towards the shoreline. 

 

_Come on! Come on! Hurry it up you damn suit!_

 

 _“I can close it! Can anybody copy?”_ Black Widow’s tired voice crackled across the comm channel. It was accompanied by a burst of white noise that nearly rendered it incomprehensible. 

 

 _“I can shut the portal down!”_  

 

Tony’s heart leaped into his throat. If that hole in space were to be shut down, then it would be the end of them all.

 

_No No No!_

 

 _“Do it!”_ Came Cap’s voice, tired and raw. He had been down on the streets, the place where the majority of the aliens had made their way to.

 

_What would Rhodey call that place? Oh yeah, the "kill box"._

 

“No! Wait!” Cried Tony, his voice raised in alarm. He prayed that he was not too late. 

 

The tech of the Iron man suit made a loud whistling sound as it sped through the air, courtesy of the numerous scratches that it had sustained. Tony kicked it into supersonic as soon as he cleared several boats, not wanting to swamp them with the waves that it would create. Supersonic speeds, however, did not help the noise which increased to an earsplitting screech. He was almost thankful for the comms as they drowned out the hideous noise of his suit.

 

 _“Stark, these things are still coming!”_ Came Cap’s frantic voice from the other side of the line.

 

_He's desperate._

 

_Well of course he is! He's right in the middle of it all, isn't he?_

Tony, keenly aware that the conversation could be heard by the entire team, raised his voice.

 

“I got a nuke coming in! It’s gonna blow in less than a minute...”  his voice trailed off as he focused on the incoming missile (which had just come into full view). The fate of the entire city was on his shoulders, he could not afford failure.

“... and I know just where to put it…” These words were more spoken to himself -a soft exclamation- as he realized that the battle might be won in a few short moments.

 

Though Tony’s last comment had been spoken softly, it was evident that the team had heard it for there was a good moment of silence.

The missile was moving fast, ever shortening the distance between launch and target. Just as it cleared the Verrazano bridge, Tony was finally able to catch up to it.

Deploying thrusters and all flaps, the suit came close to a dead stop in the air. With only milliseconds to spare, the main repulsors fired a huge blast of energy downwards, sending Tony into a vertical flight pattern that arced between two of the bridge’s towers. Water exploded everywhere, pelting his faceplate with its large droplets. 

His approach was quick and easy. In one swift movement, he was under its belly. The roar of the missile's thrusters filled Tony’s ears as he grabbed hold of its rounded surface. He reduced power to his repulsors to conserve energy. The decrease in speed (on his part) made it more difficult for him to hang on and several times, his hands slipped.  For what felt like ages, he hung there, hurtling towards New York on the belly of the deadly nuclear missile.

 

 _“Stark, you know that it’s a one-way trip-”_ Steve’s voice sounded heavy but clear of any emotion. 

 

“Save the rest for the turn, J.” Tony interrupted, not wanting to think of the implications of Cap’s words. It had occurred to him that this could be his last mission, but the idea had not sunk in yet. There had not been the time...

 

 _“Shall I try Miss Potts?”_ Came Jarvis's soft, British voice.

 

“Might as well,” Tony sighed resignedly. 

The nose of the missile began to dip downwards, and Tony adjusted his grip on it in preparation to give it a boost for the climb. He knew that it would be all eyes on him. For the first time in his life, he wished that it wasn’t. He only wanted one person to see this.

 _"Big man in a suit of armor. Take that away and what are you?_  " It was as though Cap were right there, staring down at him. " _You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."_

Images of his life, possibilities unchecked, potentials, regrets, etc. flashed into Tony’s vision. Memories of his mother, of his father, played right in front of him, reminding him of his earliest days in life. 

 

All the while, the phone continued to ring, each second seeming like an eternity.

Just as Stark tower came into view, Tony kicked in the thrusters. Jets of blue energy blasted from under his chest plate and on his back. Grunting from the effort, he strained to alter the course of the nuke.

Finally, the nose of the missile angled upwards, but not quickly enough. As both weapon and suit skimmed the side of the tower, Tony came close to crashing into the sign.

There was no missing the target now, missile and man were now on an exact collision course with the portal.

The phone continued to ring in the background. He focused on it, pushing back all emotion and fear.

_Come on Pepper, Pick up the damn phone!_

 

Then he was through, the world disappearing around him in a sudden wave of darkness. Stars seemed to pop out at him, millions of miles closer than normal.

The gravity change was instant and nauseating. Tony coughed, pain spiking in his chest. It was like there was putting a red-hot poker inside of his chest. Something told him that the shrapnel in his chest did not like zero gravity. He gasped, his eyes watering from the effort of not screaming out loud. 

Looking up, Tony finally took in the sheer immensity of the alien flagship. It was quite an ugly thing, decked out with its biotech and dark paneling. Several other ships were stationed around them, but none as large and ugly. In Tony's pain-filled vision, all of them looked like large, dark blobs against a dark background. He could barely make out 

In one final burst of strength, he pushed off of the nuke. The force of his push-off sent him on a slow tumble back towards the portal. The nuke, still propelled by its thrusters, continued on towards the ship. He watched as it rapidly closed the gap at an incredible speed.

Tony was starting to feel hopeful until Jarvis mumbled something incoherent. The words sounded suspiciously like _“call failure”_.

The ringing stopped.

He stared up at the message on his screen numbly. The cell had cut out. 

 _Pepper_ …

Tony disengaged his shoulder thrusters. He would no longer need them.  It gave him a slight push backward, farther away from the blast radius of the nuke.

  _If I’m going to die in outer space, it won’t be because of some damned nuclear blast._

 A darkness surrounded his vision, overtaking him fast. It had to be the cold… or was it the lack of oxygen? All he knew was that he was fading fast. His last thoughts were of Pepper before the darkness consumed him.

 

* * *

 

“Come on Stark…”

Natasha’s whisper seemed to be the only sound to break the terrible silence that gripped the entire city.

It had only been several seconds since Stark had entered the portal and so far there was no sign of return. A blossom of flame erupted from the space beyond its mouth. It was a circle of fire, clearly caused by a nuclear blast. The rapidly expanding explosion was nearly to the portal when Rodgers issued the final command.

_“Close it.”_

Without a moment’s hesitation, Natasha thrust the scepter forwards and into the crown of the device. With a loud crackle, the tesseract abruptly cut power to the portal generator.

The beam of light that had connected the tesseract to the portal disappeared, leaving the leftover energy to hold the portal as long as possible.

Moving back from the tesseract, Natasha stared upwards. She was half expecting to see Iron man’s red-gold armor falling down to earth.

The portal’s diameter was shrinking at a rapid rate, now down to a fraction of the size that it had been several second before.

_Come on Stark!_

Then it happened! A flash of metal appeared at the mouth of the portal and fell through into the earth’s atmosphere. It was way too small to be Stark… and last that Natasha had seen, the suit had been in one piece.

Someone on the comms inhaled sharply. 

 

_Clint._

 

Natasha let her breath hiss out between her teeth as she saw what the falling objects were.

It was a pair of golden flaps, most likely from the Iron man suit. One crashed to the ground on the lower level of Stark Tower, cracking the cement, while the other plummeted into the street below.

Beside her, Dr. Selvig muttered, “no…”

The portal closed.

Natasha bowed her head.

The Avengers had lost a teammate.

But most of all, she had lost a friend.

 

* * *

 

Steve was brought back to reality by a bone-jarring roar from the Hulk. The big green guy landed next to him, showering him in chunks of pavement. Blinking, Steve squinted up at him. Grief was etched on his face, bringing out new lines in his green skin.

The pair stood in 5th avenue, covered in blood and dust. Dead Chitauri lay all around them, strewn all across the road; in piles and groups where they had fallen. A very large beast with biotech enhancements lay across a rooftop nearby, also seemingly dead.

Steve had lost his hood sometime in the combat so his face was clearly visible (covered in dirt and grime). Blood trickled from a hole in his armor just above his left hip. Other than that he looked fine. His shield was still strapped to his right arm which hung limply at his side.

The Hulk stared down at Steve, sadness radiating off of him. His body didn’t appear to have sustained any damage. His pants did seem to be a little bit worse for wear though as they were riddled with stretch marks and rips.

“You guys alright?” Steve asked into the comms, his eyes not leaving Hulk’s.

 _“Yeah,”_ came Clint’s voice, _“just someone get me off this damn roof!”_ His voice was forced. The archer was obviously in shock and was trying to sound normal, but his voice gave it away.

 _“A couple pieces of Stark’s armor fell through the portal before it closed,”_ came Natasha’s voice, _“I got one, the other fell into the street below the tower, anyone want to grab it? Also, we have an unconscious god in Tony’s bar.”_

 _“We got it.”_ Came Clint’s voice. 

Dropping his eyes from Hulk’s, Steve started back up the street towards Star Tower, “Hulk, get Loki,” he ordered. The Hulk took off moments later, shaking the earth around him as he leaped from building to building.

Steve was nervous leaving the big guy alone with anyone after what had happened earlier on the helicarrier. Of course, if anyone asked him about it, he wouldn’t admit that he still did not trust Hulk.

 _Stark trusted Banner. Wasn’t that enough to make one trust that monster?_ Steve didn’t know yet.

Of all of them, Stark was the one who had trusted the hulk. Stark was the one who had first questioned SHIELD’s intentions. And Stark who had paid the ultimate price to win the day. _Stark… that infuriatingly proud man, making the sacrifice play?_

Feet pounding against the pavement, Steve almost missed his turn.

The large letters that had previously spelled the word “STARK” on the tower’s sign had fallen to the street during the battle. Several of them had scorch marks on them (Chitauri), others had fried circuitry that screamed Loki. Ironically, all that was left on the tower was a large letter “A”.

Steve made his way around the smashed letters and into the building.

The first thing that hit him was the crowds of people. Once the Chitauri had hit the streets, hoards of civilians had run for the larger, more enclosed areas. One such area was the base level of Stark Tower.

So when Steve entered the building, he was confronted by about a hundred scared faces. Several of them were clutching young children. He felt that he should say something, but could think of nothing.

As he walked into the crowd, the people parted to give him a clear path to the elevator. Clearly, they knew who he was. Once he got to the elevator, he pressed the “up” button and turned to the crowd. He was now a hundred percent sure he should say something to these people.

“Erhm, It’s safe now,” he said, turning to the people, “the aliens are defeated. You can leave this place, just be careful with falling debris on your way out.” It was incredibly awkward, talking to a crowd again after so many years.

There were mutters of _“thank you”_ and _“it’s Captain America”_ and _“no way”_. Steve hurriedly turned back to the elevator. 

It was only once he was in the privacy of the lift that he relaxed. The small cube was completely lined with mirrors and sported a small brass handrail. On normal terms, Steve would have laughed at its owner, saying that the mirrors were just for Stark to look at himself and feed his ego. But, of course, this was no normal day.

Steve’s side twinged and he clapped a hand to it, letting himself fall against the mirror behind him. It had been a long day.

 _“Are you alright sir?”_ Came a smooth British voice from seemingly thin air, _“there is a first aid kit below the panel to your left. I’m also assuming you would like the fortieth floor? You will find Mrs. Romanov there.”_

Steve just about jumped out of his skin. It was then that he realized that this voice must be one of Stark’s creations. 

“Yes,” replied Steve, still unsure of who was speaking, “who are you?”

The elevator began to rise.

 _“I am Jarvis,”_ came the answer, _“a virtual AI that Mr. Stark created. I control the main functions of the building. My analysis of you tells me that you are injured.”_

 _No duh_. 

“I’m fine, Jarvis.”

_“I believe you are also aware of what has happened to Mr. Stark.”_

Steve’s head sank, “yes, Jarvis, I am.”

 _“Then you know that he has ordered me to destroy all of his work,”_ said the AI, _“by his order, one of the Avengers must oversee it. Do you wish to do this?”_

Shock, then a flash of anger washed over Steve. A man so self-centered that he had to destroy his own work in the event of his death? Did he trust no one? On second thoughts, the order seemed to make more sense. Stark was a futurist, just like his father Howard. Of course, he’d destroy his work. The logic was that the suit was better destroyed than in the hands of an enemy. Plus, who knew if the suits were the most dangerous thing that Stark had whipped up? Then he remembered his words from earlier and a twinge of guilt went through him. He owed this to Stark. He should honor that. 

“Yes.”

Steve stayed in silence until the elevator reached its destination: the 39th floor.

Upon the doors opening, Steve saw that the place had been trashed. The bar off to the right was a pile of rubble. The floor had been broken and the marble shattered in many places. In the center of the room lay Loki, struggling to get Hulk’s foot off his chest.

Hulk grunted a welcome to Steve and pointed down at Loki, “I got puny god!" 

“You dull creature! How dare you lay a hand on me!" 

“Technically it’s a foot, Loki” Came Clint’s voice as he strode through the remnants of the glass doors to Steve’s right, followed by Thor who held the fallen piece of Stark’s armor. Natasha dropped from the upper level, behind them, still holding Loki’s scepter.

Hulk stepped off of Loki’s chest and the god sat up and did his best to brush himself off.

“Where is Stark?” He sneered, “having vacations in outer space now, are we?”

Thor decked him hard in the jaw, snapping Loki’s head around and sending him back to the floor.

“You _dare_ mock friend Tony?” He bellowed.

“Oh, so you’re calling him a friend now?” Loki replied, spitting blood out onto the floor, “I’m pretty sure that you were at each other’s throats just a matter of a few hours ago.”

“Does anyone have a gag?” Steve asked exasperatedly.

Clint immediately went off to try and find something that would work. Clearly, he agreed with Steve on not wanting to listen to Loki’s babble for the next several hours.

It was then that Natasha pulled Steve aside. She was holding one of the pieces of the Iron man suit that had come through the portal.

“Steve” she held out the piece of armor, “these pieces of armor were not removed by force, Stark had to have chosen to detach them. Look at the way that these would have sat on his shoulders-”

Steve, still trying to wrap his head around the whole idea, was confused, “and _why_ are you telling me this?”

She rolled her eyes, “because I know a guilty man when I see one. I was there when you and Stark were going at it back on the helicarrier. I know both of you were under the influence of the scepter, but that doesn’t change what was said. Besides, you knew Howard. I can’t help thinking that you regret not getting to know his son. You may not feel it now, but I know you will.”

Steve looked at the floor.

“It was his choice and his life that he put on the line. He won’t blame you and he sure as hell didn’t make that sacrifice because you mocked him for it earlier.”

With that, she shoved the metal into Steve’s arms and strode away.

Natasha had been spot on with his guilt. He had lost soldiers before… but the last time it was this personal was when he’d lost Bucky. 

About a half hour later, Fury arrived with his team. They landed a small aircraft right outside the penthouse, where Stark usually landed his Iron man suits. In a solemn procession, the SHIELD agents all disembarked. There were five of them: Fury, Maria Hill, and three other agents. At a short command from Fury, the agents all grouped around the plane, standing watch.

The Avengers had made themselves more comfortable in the penthouse, though Steve did feel that it was wrong to be there without Stark. He’d voiced this to the team shortly after Natasha approached him. To his displeasure, the consensus was to sit tight and wait for Fury to arrive.

Steve had taken a spot at the bar, eyes fixed on the far wall and deep in thought. His shield was laying on the counter in front of him, the piece of Iron man suit in his hands. Thor and Hulk had taken posts on either side of Loki, who was seated in one of the remaining lounge chairs. Natasha and Clint sat on the remnants of the steps. The two Agents were engaged in quiet conversation which was incoherent at Steve’s distance.

Fury entered the penthouse through one of the smashed windows, glancing around and taking in the scene in front of him. Hill was close behind him, her face solemn.

As if rousing from a trance, the Avengers all began to stir from their resting positions. Steve set down the piece of metal in his hands. 

Fury looked at Loki with open hatred etched across his face. Loki shared the feeling, glaring back at the director. He could not say anything due to the gag that covered his mouth, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

“We’ll take him from here,” Fury said, gesturing at Loki.

Steve sighed and strapped his shield back to his arm and stepped down from the bar area to face the director, “we need to discuss that.”

Thor stepped in, “I must take Loki back to Asgard to face _Asgardian justice_. It is critical that he be kept there. None of your cells could contain him here.”

Clint and Natasha both stood and walked over to Thor. Natasha spoke directly to Fury, her eyes boring into him, “Fury, you _know_ that Thor is telling the truth. You saw what happened to the cage that you built on the helicarrier.”

Fury bowed his head, clearly conflicted. Maria Hill laid her hand on his shoulder.

“I agree with Thor.”

Fury let out a short, sarcastic laugh, “Hill, I couldn’t take him from them even if I tried, I just needed to hear their answer in person.”

Then Steve stepped forwards, his eyes narrowing, “Loki was not all who you were here for, was he? You’re here to take the Hulk.”

“Yes,” Fury said, “If Stark were here, I would be willing to bet that Tony would be offering Banner a place in Stark Tower right now. A place where he could study and research in peace. _But Stark isn’t here_.”

“No thanks to you,” Clint replied hotly, “you dropped a nuke on us! You don’t trust us." 

“I trusted you to get the job done. The board of directors did not.” Fury pinched the bridge of his nose, “they called in an override of command. Stark was the only one of you who was capable of taking that missile out without detonating it. But this is beside the point. The Hulk cannot be trusted. We need to take him in.”

“No,” said Steve, watching Fury’s face, “he’s not going anywhere.”

There wasn’t much more debate as the Avengers agreed with what had been said. Hulk was a part of their team, as was Thor; therefore, could be trusted. As much as Fury tried, their minds could not be turned.

With the help of SHIELD (and Dr. Selvig), the tesseract was loaded into a small device that would channel its power into a portal to Asgard. It resembled a transparent rectangular box with gold lining.

Fury left shortly after the box was ready for transportation. Steve suspected that he would have a lot on his hands just for letting both Thor and Hulk off the hook, let alone letting Thor take the tesseract (which wasn’t even mentioned after the discussion about Loki). Dr. Selvig also left with SHIELD. He had been all alone on the roof in some sort of meditative state for the last hour. 

Thor disembarked several minutes after Fury left, taking the place on the landing pad where the plane had been parked. Both brothers had one hand on the container with the tesseract. Nodding his farewell to the team, Thor twisted the top of the box and they disappeared in a flash of white light.

Now off the hook, the Hulk came over to stand with his remaining teammates. He looked down at them with a blank expression.  

His thoughts were reflected in their eyes.

_What now?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -Hulk/Clint_
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> I took the story line from the Marvel Cinematic Universe for a starting point but used personalities closer to what we see in (the animated series) Avengers Assemble.  
> This fic has a lot of references to other Avengers stories, many of which were mentioned in EMH or AA. A pretty major one though was taken from Next Avengers: Heroes of Tomorrow.  
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> I hope you liked it! Feel free to comment below :) I'd love some feedback on how you guys like my writing, etc. (This is my first official fic so any help would be appreciated)


	2. Chaos (1)-Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle of New York is over and the Chitauri lie in defeat. 
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> But where are the Avengers?
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> Bruce Banner and Clint Barton both wake up in new places, new times. Neither of them remembering how they got there, or why they were sent there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some issues typing this one because of my cat constantly sitting on my keyboard (jealous little bugger) <3
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> Hope you enjoy!

Bruce Banner rolled over, groaning. His head was pounding. 

He could have sworn that he'd been standing in the penthouse just a few seconds ago, staring out the window. Cap had been standing there, talking with Jarvis...

 _Stark's override protocol! Jarvis had said that it had failed! Programming override..._ It was all starting to come back. There had been a loud _bang_ and a flash of green light before everything went black. 

Still, something seemed _off_ about his situation and it wasn't because of what had happened in the penthouse. Bruce wasn't unaccustomed to waking up in different forms, but this time felt different. Judging by the way that the ground beneath him was digging into his back, he was no longer in the form of the Hulk. The big guy had kept an iron grip on him for hours after the combat ended. No way would he have allowed Banner out so quickly. That left only one option: Someone had deliberately made the Hulk release him. This notion caused a stab of fear to lance through his stomach.

 _Someone_...

The surface beneath Bruce's fingers was a soft dirt. Without even meaning to, he burrowed his fingers into the earth and felt its touch. It was a welcoming feeling after all the chaos. To be free of the Hulk and to breathe fresh air was a miracle in its self.

Like always, Bruce could feel the presence of the Hulk in the back of his mind. He took comfort in this (as much as he loathed the big green monster), embracing the fact that he wasn't the only one stuck out in the middle of nowhere. 

There was a bird's cry that sounded similar to an eagle's. The sound echoed several times before dying off. 

_Mountains? So maybe not in a city? Definitely not New York._

Cautiously, Bruce cracked one eye open. He was greeted by soft sunlight. Emboldened, he opened both eyes. 

He was surrounded by a beautiful forest. Sunlight shone through small gaps in the leaves, lighting up the forest floor and bathing everything in its golden rays. Branches laced a pattern above his head, creating a dome-like structure in the roof of the forest. Vines hung down from there, looping and twisting around trees. The forest floor was mainly made up of moss and clover. He felt mildly guilty for the giant, man-sized hole in the ground that he'd left. 

Bruce sat up, feeling the cool air of the forest against his bare chest. His pants were hideously stretched out and ripped with the waistband spanning a whopping four inches past his hips. Even though he was exposed right now, he didn't feel uncomfortable. Only a few hours ago, he'd been naked in someone's barn... This was much better of a way to wake up. Besides, his bones were aching and he felt like he was seriously hung over. It was nice not having to talk or explain his situation to anyone.

Remembering the numerous "Hulk incidents" in the past, Bruce almost laughed out loud. This was paradise compared to those times.

_Thanks, Hulk._

His thoughts drifted back to the flash of green light. _What had it been? Who had done it?_ Bruce was fairly convinced it was a _who_. His first guess would have been that Loki was the one behind it but found it to be quite illogical since the trickster was on Asgard. 

Bruce sat there for several more minutes, contemplating what to do next. If magic was involved, there was nothing that could be done. Sure, the Hulk could smash things and make things go _boom_ , but magic... _Pfft._

There was a rustling in the trees above him and Bruce hastily pulled himself to his feet. When his baggy pants threatened to drop down to his knees, he gripped a large amount of the fabric in his fists and pulled them back up. 

A vine dangled nearby his head and he yanked it down the ground, tearing off a good five or six feet of it in the process. Bruce wove this through each belt loop in his pants and tied it at the waist. It was enormous on him but adequate. 

While he'd been working, the rustling had grown much more noticeable. Whatever had been coming his way was still approaching. 

Bruce crouched down in a defensive stance. Someone had sent him here, and he was pretty sure it was not out of the goodness of their heart. He had to be ready for anything. 

Then a thought occurred to him. _What if the other Avengers had been teleported as well?_ They could be anywhere. _But where was anywhere?_ Where was he _really_?

All his questions were answered when a dinosaur exploded from the leaves above him.

 

* * *

 

Clint Barton was not having a very good day. One moment he was having a quality conversation with Tony's AI, the next, he was face down on a concrete rooftop. At least he was pretty certain it was a rooftop by the sheer amount of yelling that was going on. There was a fairly strong wind, for one, and it had a certain chill-factor to it. Not something that one typically found at ground level.

There were sirens wailing all around him and lots of yelling. He really wished that they would stop, it was hurting his ears. He had a pretty royal headache as it was. Maybe it was from whatever had hit him earlier. 

Flash of green light + Blackness, yeah, no further explanation needed. As far as he was concerned, Clint had seen enough magic for several lifetimes, in one day. 

Rolling onto his back, Clint propped himself up on his elbows. 

He was surrounded by buildings, many of which were higher than the one he was on. They were all apartments. In the distance, he could see a blue light glowing. A searchlight was focused in his direction, or rather whatever was in front of him. It was very _very_ bright and he had to narrow his eyes against it. At first, he'd assumed that it was daytime, but now he realized it had been an illusion from the light. It was night time and very dark. He was sure that he could smell rain. 

A very large, grotesque, face sat in front of Clint. It leered down at him with smugness. 

"And who might you be?" It asked.

The thing was disgusting. It was a bloated, enormous face that was propped on a... a... Clint did not exactly know how to describe it. His first thought was calling it a bodysuit but that would be unrealistic, for the thing did not seem to even have a proper body. Spindly limbs stuck out of the "head" at awkward angles, making the scene all the more horrifying to look at. What topped it all was the fact that the head was levitating (some anti-grav unit most likely). 

"Identify yourself... _archer_?" The thing's face was beginning to morph into a sickening grin, "what an unexpected surprise."

Clint did not like the way that this was going. 

"Who are you?" He demanded, scrambling to his feet and unfolding his bow in one swift movement. He reached back for his quiver and cursed when he remembered that it was still empty. He had failed to get the time to reload after the Chitauri invasion. 

"I am MODOK," said the head. 

The light flickered slightly over MODOK's head before sliding towards Clint. Clearly, the helicopter above had spotted him.

 _Great_.

MODOK grinned as he studied Clint. Clint continued to back up, unsure of his predicament. 

"You're the archer! _Hawkeye_!" The head snarled, "after all these years, finally sticking your nose out of the rat hole!"

Clint was about to make a dive for the fire escape whenever the head -MODOK- issued a laser-like blast from a small jewel embedded in his forehead. The laser hit the ground close to Clint's feet and the cement exploded. Chunks of roof flew everywhere, leaving a crater the size of a large dinner plate in the roof. 

Unfortunately for him, Clint was sent on a collision course with the neighboring building. He smashed into the rough bricks and fell, barely managing to grab onto the fire escape as he went down. He was both weaponless and vulnerable. Natasha would have kicked his ass for being so clumsy.

The railing's dark, rusted metal, provided Clint with a slightly more secure handhold than normal. He hadn't expected it. Normally, fire escapes were painted with a slick, glossy paint, that provided zero grip. He had gotten lucky, _very_  lucky. 

From his vantage point, Clint had a good view of the chopper above. Thankfully, it had not spotted him with its massive searchlight. The white lettering on its sides clearly read _NYPD_. 

A feeling of relief shot through him. He was still in New York... but _when_? How long had he been out? He knew it had been several hours judging by the sun, but for all he knew, it could have been days. Questions upon questions flooded his mind. His first impulse was to pull himself back up to the rooftop and force the truth out of MODOK, but he deflected the idea. Thinking of how little he knew about the guy.

_"After all these years, finally sticking your nose out of the rat hole!"_

Clint would have denied the head's claims in any other situation, calling it a lie, but the idea that he'd been boosted forwards in time made too much sense. What did not make sense was how he'd gotten there in the first place.  _Time travel? Come on! Stark industries, SHIELD, everyone leading in the technological field were not even decades close to unraveling the mysteries of time._

 _Magic_?

He had seen Loki in action. He'd seen all the destruction that it had caused. He could not rule it out. 

There was a roar from above him and he almost let go of the railing in surprise. 

A large bolt of energy narrowly missed the helicopter which was weaving frantically in the air.

Clint made his decision. His muscles screaming from exhaustion, he pulled himself up and onto the metal landing. From there, he was able to climb onto the railing and jump up to the ledge on the roof. Crouching there, on the edge of the apartment, he could finally get a good view of MODOK. He and five other men were there, firing at the helicopters and several other police officers that were stationed on apartments around them.  The men were all equipped with some sort of energy weapon that shot blue bursts of electricity. If they weren't bad guys, then Clint might have actually laughed at them. The men were all dressed in what looked like yellow beekeeper outfits.

They had not noticed him yet. 

Spying his bow lying several feet in front of him, Clint grabbed it.

The small movement caught the attention of MODOK who sent another blast of energy in his direction. Clint was prepared this time and ducked as it streaked over his head. The side of the neighboring apartment exploded and sent more cement and bricks flying.

Seeing the small chunks of rock everywhere gave Clint an idea. He might be out of arrows, but as long as they kept firing at him and blowing up stuff up, there would be an endless supply of ammo.  

Without thinking too much about it, Clint scooped up a small pebble with a flat edge and pressed it against the bowstrings. He could not fire normally because of the rock's width, but he could still fire if he used his bow sideways. Shooting at an angle, he was able to land the pebble in the center of MODOK's big forehead. It would not kill, it would not knock someone out of his size, but would sure hurt like hell. 

MODOK howled and swatted at his face. A large, red welt was rising up where the stone had come in contact with his skin. 

Clint began to fire a stream of pebbles at the men. It bothered him about how inaccurate each rock was. Every single one had a different composition with weight unevenly distributed across it. Some hit their target, others streaked off a good foot or so past their mark. Though they were unpredictable, Clint began to understand how different rocks would fly. He especially liked the small princes from the edges of the roof that contained the fine-grain cement. 

There were cries from the men as they slowly fell. Much to Clint's displeasure, MODOK was able to place a force field around himself which absorbed everything it came into contact with. Clint shot several rocks into it, only to watch them sizzle and fall to the ground.

One of MODOK's energy bolts had dug a big pit in the ground. This provided Clint with a perfect place to find cover. It was an asset that he took ruthless advantage of.

The head was yelling something incoherent, ranting at his men to keep going and kill all their enemies. Clint almost laughed, for, at that point, there had only been two soldiers left. One of them, in a panicked state, accidentally stepped into his master's force field. Upon coming into contact with the invisible force, the soldier let out a bloodcurdling scream and dropped to the ground. 

The other soldier got distracted by his fallen teammate and quickly was taken out by the police. 

MODOK snarled and let loose a volley of energy blasts, blowing up several buildings, taking out the police as he did so. Clint was left to wonder why he hadn't done this sooner. Smoke enveloped the area, cloaking the area in a dense fog. 

"Getting rid of your own soldiers, MODOK?" Came a smooth voice that could clearly be heard through the mist, "I'm not surprised that A.I.M has fallen so low."

As the smoke cleared, Clint glanced over the rubble to stare back at MODOK. His stomach dropped as he realized that the head was no longer alone. A beautiful woman stood next to him, brushing herself off. She carried herself like she was royalty and wore an expression of revulsion. Dressed from head to toe in white, she looked stunning. The white bodysuit accentuated the curves of her body.  

The man that stood directly to her left wore a devil-like mask with bulbous yellow eyes. His armor was a series of green armor plating over a skintight bodysuit. He rode a triangular jet-propelled glider. Clint was surprised at how much the man reminded him of Stark. Slots in the front of the glider marked possible ports for long-ranged weapons. 

Shoulder to shoulder with the man in green was... another man in green, well at least his _cloak_ was green. It was hard to discern much from the light that came from the chopper. There was a faint gleam of metal from underneath the hood. Clint guessed that the man also wore a mask. 

Clint would have preferred to get more of a reading/gauge off of the people in front of him, but really could not see much. Man, he _hated_ going against people with masks. 

The woman looked over towards him, and Clint hurriedly ducked behind the rubble to conceal himself. There were too many enemies and only one of him. 

Throughout this whole exchange, the chopper had been maintaining its distance and bathing the whole area in light. It helped immensely to be able to see, but Clint couldn't help but wish that they'd help more. He did not blame them for wanting to stay as far away as possible, for the police had already had lost most of their men to MODOK. Judging by the sheer amount of sirens, reinforcements were on their way. 

"Archer!" Came the woman's soft voice, "I can feel your presence here. You cannot hide from me!"

Several thoughts burst through Clint's tired brain at the same time. _How did she know he was there?_ MODOK had not said a word about his presence. _Maybe she had some weird tech?_

" _Hawkeye_?" Came a low voice, "he disappeared years ago."

"He's here," came MODOK's reedy voice, "he's behind that-"

" _The likelihood that he's just come off of a chronological rift is quite high_ ," came a metallic voice, Clint was willing to bet that it was the man in the hood. 

MODOK's voice was cut off by an explosion that sent Clint sprawling backward. The rubble that he'd been crouching behind had been blasted away into a thousand pieces. Rolling to absorb the impact, Clint came back to face them, several feet away from he'd been hiding. He leveled his bow at the crew, trying to make the small pebble that he had strung look threatening.

He could see them all, standing there. All of them, watching him. 

The woman raised her hands to her temples. Instantly, he was under a mental attack, the world spinning around him. Daggers dug deep into his conscience, making his brain turn to mush under its power. 

 _It's alright, just give into it_. Came a voice inside his head. _Just give into me..._

Clint stumbled backward, clutching his head in both hands. His bow lay abandoned, several feet away. It was only when his feet brushed the side of the roof when he fell to his knees. Eyes rolling up into his head, he strained to resist the woman's power. He was very slowly giving up ground and slipping from reality. 

"What are you doing to him?" Asked the man in green.

"I'm going to find out exactly what happened in New York all those years ago," she responded, "and I'm going to take it from him. He will not remember anything after that, and maybe, _just maybe_ , he will also forget the Avengers." She gritted her teeth, "his mind is stronger than I anticipated. It is the mind of a SHIELD agent if nothing else. They are trained for this."

Clint was about to give up when there was an earth-shattering roar. It was a familiar roar though. It was the sound of jet engines coming down for a close landing. 

Abruptly, the pressure that had assaulted Clint's mind stopped. He sat there, panting and slowly regaining full control of his body. Slowly, he looked up. 

Chaos had taken over the rooftop of the apartment. The team of bad guys that had arrived were fully engaged against a new force. 

In the center of the rooftop, there was a brutal fight going on between the man in the cloak and a guy with metal wings. Since the bird guy had just arrived (and he was fighting the person who'd been allied with MODOK), Clint assumed he was a good guy. The man had dark skin and wore a set of red goggles while sporting a pair of robotic wings. His attire was half combat uniform, half armor. 

The woman that had been attacking Clint's mind was busy trying to unstick herself from the cement rooftop of the neighboring apartment while clearly trying to mind control her assailant -a man dressed in red and blue spandex- who stood over her. The man was shouting something in a high voice, but the sound seemed to be echoing inside Clint's head and did not make sense. After shaking his head several times, the guy shot something from his hands -that looked suspiciously like a spider web- at her face before turning back to the main combat. 

Two other people were in combat with the green armored guy, but they were over on the other rooftop and were difficult to see. 

MODOK was left unattended in all of the fray, his back turned, and Clint pulled himself to his feet, seeing his dance partner. He might not be in the best of shape at the moment, but he could help. 

Clint took a running start, ignoring the ruthless pounding in his head, towards MODOK.

As he passed the guy in the cape, he slid to the ground and kicked the man's feet out from under him. The man grunted as he hit the deck. 

Throwing a quick salute over his shoulder, Clint continued towards MODOK. The head still had his back turned to him, intent on trying to shoot down the jet that now circled the combat zone. The pilot seemed to be doing a stellar job of staying out of trouble. 

Clint took a running start and leaped high into the air, bringing his bow down on MODOK's head. The bow met flesh with a loud _crack_ , and splintered into pieces, several of the shards cut Clint's hands. He barely noticed the pain. MODOK howled and rolled to the ground, clutching the sides of his head. The sight made Clint almost feel sympathy for the guy. 

There was a cackle from above their heads as the green-armored baddie flew over the chaos. His glider was covered in small patches of white webbing and the good guy in red was clinging to the back, in a desperate attempt to stay on. 

The fight was going downhill for the good guys. Both guys with wings and webs were being outmatched. Even with Clint's help, there were more bad guys than good. Even as Clint watched, the mind-controlling woman was able to break free of her bonds and run towards them. 

There was the sound of a small grenade going off above him and a screech of metal. The glider crashed to the ground several feet to Clint's left, its rider rolling to the ground nearby.

"Incoming!" Came a high-pitched cry.

He had just enough time to look over his shoulder before the man in red bowled him over. They tumbled to the roof in a mass of limbs. Head pounding worse than ever, Clint groaned. There was a great weight on top of him, pinning his body to the ground.

"Hey buddy, want to get off?" He asked weakly.

"Sorry!" Came the reply in a high-pitched squeak. Geez, how old was the guy? There was movement and then the weight disappeared.

Clint sat up and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his hair. He stared at the other guy in curiosity. 

At a distance, the suit the _boy_ wore -he was pretty sure now that this was _not_ an adult- had seemed to be solid red and blue, but up close it was way more detailed. It also explained the kid's powers more thoroughly. 

The kid's bodysuit had features that screamed _spider -_ even without the webbing involved-, from the bug-eyed look of the mask to the dark spider emblem on its chest. A webbing pattern followed the theme, running across his chest, and down to his waist where the red part of the suit changed to blue. The suit was clearly home-made. Whatever the kid had done to perfect it was amazing, but there were subtle flaws in it that one wouldn't find in an industrial-made area. These errors included the tech that wrapped around the kid's wrists -with wires showing- and the way that the blue shoes that he wore resembled spray painted high tops. 

Clint nodded to him, "so what do they call you?" 

"Spider-man," came the response, slightly muffled by the mask.

"Nice suit," Clint said back, smiling. The smile died quickly as he saw the green armored man stand up, aiming something that looked like a gun at Spider-man. "Behind you!" He cried.

Spider-man spun on the spot and let loose another one of his webs. It wrapped around the assailant's wrist and pulled him to the ground. Clint had to admire the kid's aim.

"What's his name?" Asked Clint, as he watched Spider-man web the guy to the ground. 

"He's called the Green Goblin," Spider-man replied, "but his real name is Norman Osborne." His next words came out in a rush, "Is it really you? I'm sorry for totally geeking out right now but I can't believe that I'm _really_ meeting you!"

Clint was taken aback by the sudden onslaught. Had someone _wanted_ to meet him?

"Whoa there," he said, waving his hands dismissively, "I feel like I have some catching up to do."

Spider-man choked, "you-" 

"Ay Kid!" Came a gruff call, "who's the new guy?" 

Three more people had just touched down on a roof adjacent to where Spider-man and Clint stood. Two of them (a girl and a guy) were ushering injured police off of the roof, but the third -dressed in a leather jacket and jeans- was looking over at them, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"My name is Hawkeye!" Clint responded. 

"That's Wolverine," whispered Spider-man, "we call him Logan."

There was a crash from behind them and both Clint and Spider-man turned. The man with wings had just successfully launched the man with the cloak off of the roof. Clearly, the falling man had hit the fire escape like Clint had.

"The guy with wings is Falcon," Spider-man said, before Clint could ask, "the guy over there is Ant-Man and the girl is Captain Marvel!" Spider-man jabbed his finger back at the other two newcomers who were just finishing up with the police. 

"Anyone want to swap dance partners?" Called Falcon, "I got the stubborn one!"  

Wolverine bounded across the gap between roofs and came to land next to them. He was a fairly short man but heavily muscled. He had an interesting face that possessed almost animal features that were only enhanced by his sideburns. His hair was thick and came to points at the sides, almost like ears. So it almost came as no surprise when the man popped his claws. They were foot-long blades that looked wicked sharp, three per hand. Clint hated to think of going against a man like that. 

"I got you, bub!" Wolverine growled.

"Emma!" Came a yell from the girl called Captain Marvel, "you should know by know by now that you can't tamper with my mind!"

A harsh laugh followed that statement as Emma rose to her feet. She'd been lying low by the corner of the apartment, "it pays to try."

Captain Marvel levitated herself above the rooftops, her hands glowing with a purple energy. She was about as equally stunning as Emma. Her uniform was slightly more modest though. It was a skintight bodysuit similar to Natasha's, with slightly more armoring. It was pale red on the top and, like Spider-man's, blue on the bottom. A gold star stood in the middle of her chest. Her face was also masked, but only partly. Her overall style reminded Clint of Captain America, especially with the mask with the exception of the long shoulder-length blond hair that tumbled from behind the back of the mask. 

With a cry, Marvel launched herself at Emma who ducked under the charge. Her skin took on a more crystalline structure as she did so. 

Clint blinked. 

_Emma was made of diamond?_

It only took a few minutes for Captain Marvel to bring in Emma. Clint felt almost bad for the woman, she'd been hopelessly outmatched. 

The only person left was Green Cape, but he also soon went down to Wolverine's claws.

Spider-man was making a checklist as all the bad guys were brought in. 

Ant-man and Captain Marvel did most of the cleanup work. Ant-man had grumbled about missing all the action. Spider-man whispered something about Ant-man being new to the team to Clint. 

"Doctor Doom, _check_ , Emma Frost, _check_ , Green Goblin, _check_ , MODOK, _check_... hmm... am I missing one?" He stared up at Wolverine innocently.

Wolverine crossed his arms and harrumphed at the kid, "how about this one?" He asked, nodding at Clint. 

"Oh no!" Clint said holding up his hands and shaking his head, "I'm no villain!" 

"He's _Hawkeye_!" Said Spider-man impressively, "he had his bow... wait one second, where did it go?" He looked around for it. 

"Looking for this?" Said Captain Marvel resignedly, holding up the fragments of Clint's bow, "I don't believe it. He could just as easily be AIM." She narrowed her eyes.

"Look, you guys came in the jet so you didn't see it!" Said Spidey, aggressively, "he just appeared there! Just like that! Big flash of green light-"

"You saw me arrive?" Clint turned on the kid, savagely, not caring that he had shouted, " _what happened_?" 

Spidey nodded shakily, "y-yes." 

"You can talk in more detail later!" Came Captain Marvel's stern voice, "where it's more _private_."

Ant-Man, the who had been quiet all this time, finally spoke up, "I remember watching you on TV, all those years ago. Hell, we all saw you. I recognize you from that."

He was a man of middle height and build. His suit was mainly made up of a silver mesh and red leather. Silver piping and metal wiring laced around his whole body, giving him the appearance of a cyborg. His helmet resembled an ant's head, with metal looping around his head and meeting several in a point in front of his face. Red glass covered his eyes, clearly for protection purposes.

"I hope you have some more information for us that just telling us that you appeared here!" Captain Marvel's eyes bored into his face, "we need more than that." 

Thunder boomed in the distance and the soft pattering of rain could be heard all around them. 

Spidey groaned, "so much for getting home with my webs."

Captain Marvel turned to address the rest of her team, "take him back to the mansion. I want everyone on comms at all times. I'll handle SHEILD and make sure that these guys get to a prison cell."

The jet touched down behind the group and Clint was ushered inside. He was exhausted, though he was careful not to show it. 

The interior of the jet was the same as any standard SHIELD model, with its row of seats and the cockpit. The blue dome lights cast a cold light on everyone inside. Clint sat on the end, closest to the cockpit on the right, next to Spider-man.

He laid his head in his hands. The headache that he'd had earlier was growing once more.

"Are you okay?" Came a voice.

Looking up groggily, Clint saw that Ant-man was looking at him from across the aisle. He had removed his helmet and was staring at him with concern. His brown eyes and hair gave him an intense look.

"Yeah-" Clint replied roughly, "it's just been a long day."

The jet took off, rain streaking across the glass. Clint stared out the window, wondering how much had changed. He watched as the buildings zoomed past. They were flying low, probably headed for whatever _mansion_ the team had been referring to.  

It was a quick flight, and Clint barely had time to get comfortable before he was whisked off the jet and into the warmth of the building. 

The mansion was a massive place, with grand halls and warm fireplaces. Several other people were there, but Clint paid no notice. He was starting to get tunnel vision. 

"What is this place?" He asked as they began the tour.

"This," said Wolverine, "is _Avengers_ mansion." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -Tony_


	3. Chaos (2)-Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One Avenger made the ultimate sacrifice and returned.
> 
> But not to his world, not to his New York. 
> 
> This is a new world, a new place, a new age.

_A portal opening before him, a dark ring in the sky with no light shining within it._

_[Flash]_

_Pepper's body pressed against him, leaning in for a kiss. The wind whipping around them._ _He had to steady her as she lost her balance. Hammerdrones exploded all around them, sending bursts of orange fire into the dark night..._

_[Flash]_

 

_Pain arched through his chest as he woke up in a cot. Cave walls surrounded him. He turned to grab water on the bedside table, only to get caught on the wires to the car battery wired to his chest. HIs shock and panic filled the air as he ripped at the bandaging that covered the arc reactor._

_[Flash]_

 

_There he was, falling through the air, the wind whistling through the eye sockets of his Mark 1 suit. The desert sand rising up to greet him._

_SMASH._

 

 

Tony hit the concrete with a loud crunching sound. He felt pavement crack beneath him. His head snapped back from the impact, smashing into the bricks with a loud crack. Luckily, the suit protected him from the worst of it. 

 

He did not stop there. There were blinding flashes of light all around him, arcing around his body and enveloping him in darkness. It was like he was sinking into the earth, through its layers, then racing out the other side. Stars blazed around him for a moment before vanishing. 

 

_What?_

 

Then he was smashing into the bricks for the second time, the rough stone connecting with his spine in a loud explosion. Several fragments of his armor flew off, already loosened from his battle with the Chitauri. 

Out of the darkness came a voice, a chilling, deep voice. 

_"Sorry, wrong time."_

There was a second flash of green light, then everything went dark once more. Whoever had been there was gone. 

 

 

His suit was heavy, it was heavier than it had ever felt (even the the Mark 1 had seemed lighter than this). Worse than that was the horrible feeling of his dead arc reactor.  Forget the suit, he had to get the reactor working.

Shaking, Tony called for Jarvis but the only reply he got was his blood thundering in his ears. Sweat had already soaked through his shirt, making movement uncomfortable and awkward. Trying to calm himself, Tony fumbled for the emergency release. With an exclamation, he finally found it.  

The air was cool and dry against his skin, a welcoming feeling after being stuck in the suit for so long.

Pulling against the hem of his shirt, Tony began to try to pull it up, trying to get it high enough so that he could see the reactor. Several times, he missed his shirt hem completely and ended up scrabbling against thin air. His mind conveyed brief surprise about how far gone he was. This realization brought in a wave of new panic.

Finally getting a good grip on the shirt, he began to pull it up himself but found caught on something. Clearly, it had caught in one of the clamps on the suit. Tugging at the shirt proved to be useless, for all he managed to do was rip a large hole in the cotton. Briefly lying back to rest, Tony let out a soft laugh. Here he was, probably doomed by his own heart, fighting a stupid  _shirt_.

_Congratulations Tony on the amazing situation you've gotten yourself into._

Tony took fistfuls of his light cotton shirt and began to shred it, not caring about the enormous amounts of energy that it took in the process. The shirt tore in strips, curling around his fingers and leaving small puffs of string and fabric behind. After a few frenzied seconds, he was through. When he saw the reactor, dismay swept through him. 

The arc reactor was dark. It looked... _dead_. 

Slowly, his hands shaking, he unscrewed it. His heart was palpitating from the strain (a deep pounding sensation that left a sickening heaviness in his chest) making his vision swim in front of him. After struggling with the rim of the reactor -that seemed to be spinning- he decided that he could no longer trust his vision. He closed his eyes.

The rim of the reactor was easy to find, and Tony gripped it tightly as he began to work it side to side. After loosening it, he began to slowly unscrew the thing. Each time he moved, shocks of numbness could be felt in his arms. 

 _Come on_! He told himself. _Don't you dare give up! You've lived too damn long to be stopped now!_

Finally, the reactor came out of his chest with a soft _squelch_. Wincing, Tony passed the reactor from his right hand to his left while simultaneously inserting his right hand into the open hole in his chest. After feeling around inside the cavity, and moving a few wires around, he screwed the arc reactor back in. It did not light up.

Panic threatened to suffocate him. He tried twisting the reactor tighter but ended up feeling sharp stabbing pains from the area around it. He cried out loud as the pain coursed through him. 

_This should be working!_

Frustrated, he pounded on the reactor a few times, his breath rushing out of his chest each time his fist came in contact with the metal. Darkness was forming around his vision for the second time that day. This time, he did not embrace it.  

_Come on you stupid thing! Come on!_

The arc reactor sputtered, then glowed blue once more. 

It was like being reborn as energy flowed back into Tony's limbs. He lay back and let his head fall back into his helmet with a soft _thump_. 

 

_He was alive._

 

Eyes closed, he lay there for some time, just taking in the fact that he wasn't dead. It was then that reality began to come back to him. 

 

 _New York, the portal, outer space.._. he had been there. 

Opening his eyes, Tony sat up and took a look at his surroundings, this was _definitely_ not outer space. 

He lay in a small crater in the ground, surrounded by tall buildings. It was a city... _but which city?_ The street was filthy, covered with litter and debris; lit only by a single lamp from the main road. In the dim light, the alley looked like it had been through a war zone. All the windows were shattered and There were large gashes in the walls that Tony was pretty sure _hadn't_ been from his fall. Though there was light coming from the street, Tony realized what looked genuinely wrong about the city. 

There were no lights inside the rooms. All of the apartments that he could see had either drawn their curtains or shut down all sources of light. Even as he watched, the street light flickered and went out.

Tony recognized that tactic from many war stories. People who were in remote villages and cities(at night), in areas of war, would all turn out their lights to prevent airplanes from finding/bombing them. 

Chills ran down Tony's spine as he sat in the dark. It was Afghanistan all over again.

There was a red-orange glow in the distance, most likely the center area of the city. It created a creepy silhouette as all the tall skyscrapers were reflected against the glow. 

_What was this place?_

Feeling his way around, he began to manually close his armor. His feet went first, as they had not moved since he'd woken up. The metal slid easily over them and locked into place. Slowly, Tony worked his way up his body, once more enclosing himself in his suit. He was just past his hips when he froze.

Was it his imagination or was that the sound of engines?

Tony cursed himself for stopping and hurriedly fitted the rest of his armor onto his body, latching it as he went. 

He'd just attached his faceplate when the engines arrived. 

With slight difficulty, Tony pulled himself to his feet. In some parts, his armor had been buried a good two or three inches into the cement. The armor had power from the arc reactor, but Jarvis was still not connected. Fortunately, his weapons systems were online. 

At that exact moment, a team of robots came speeding around the corner of the street and into the alley. A bright light was bought at the rear of their formation, and within seconds, the whole alley was lit up by its powerful rays.

Squinting, Tony was able to finally get a good look at the robots. They were of a shiny silver metal and shaped like skeletal humans. Where their faces should have been, were small control boxes in the shape of a mask. Tony could not help but see a similarity in design to the robots as his suit, for one, their faces looked like demonic versions of his faceplate. What really got him, however, was the more obvious trait that both robots and suit shared. Each robot was powered by an arc reactor.  

 _How_...

Then guns popped from the hands of each robot, leveled at him.

Two robots held rifles. They were situated at the back of the party and clearly were "elite". They had peculiar markings on their faces, marked in green. 

"Whoah there!" He called, putting his hands in the air, "do you guys want to talk thi-"

Apparently, his offer wasn't good enough because the robots opened fire. 

The first couple of blasts just harmlessly deflected off of his armor, but then the two robots in the back began to add hire from their rifles to the deadly volley. Clearly, they were some kind of special unit because they fired some kind of laser that sent him stumbling backward. The shot had clipped him on the right shoulder. 

_Damn, that actually hurt._

System diagnostics started to give him a light show as it flashed more and more data across it.

Skin burning from the laser, Tony stared at the rifle in amazement. Whatever energy the rifle has just shot at him was powerful. After all, it has only just burned a hole in his suit! 

Seeing the rifle begin to power up again, he took off, sending several parting shots over his shoulder as he left. 

The night skies were completely deserted. In a normal situation, Tony would have rejoiced being the only one in the skies, but this time it just gave him the creeps. 

_Something was very wrong._

Even on light days, there was air traffic above large cities. Judging by the size of the city that he was flying over, there should at least be _something_.

Cold air had invaded the interior of the armor almost immediately after takeoff. The laser has completely stripped away all protection from the area, leaving a wide open, horrific scar where metal has once sat.

Over the whistling that the hole in his armor was causing, Tony could hear the sounds of pursuit. Laser shots flew past his line of sight, some coming closer to hitting him than he was comfortable with. Apparently only the "elite" bots could fly. _Great_.

His shoulder throbbed and his head did not feel exactly on point either. _Not good_. 

As Tony sped over the skyline, he was forced to accept his current situation. He'd been teleported somewhere strange, maybe another planet? A different dimension? And he was up against robots that could kill him at any moment. Then he thought of Pepper and the Avengers. He hoped they were ok.

Many scenarios similar to the one that he was currently in flashed before him. Pepper surrounded by killer robots, the Avengers falling to their deadly lasers in front of her... _No,_ Tony said to himself, forcing the idea out of his mind, the Avengers were probably sitting at a table happily drinking and celebrating their well-earned victory. Even though he kept telling himself that they were fine, the image of Pepper in danger continued to weigh on his mind. 

_Was she teleported too? Was she safe?_

The next lasers that were fired at him were more accurate, almost hitting him in the back of the head. He was barely able to duck as they whizzed by. Pulling himself back to the present, Tony decided it was high time for some action. 

Cutting power to his rear repulsors, he doubled back. It was only when he was a good distance behind them, that he re-engaged his repulsors.

Now flying behind his enemies, Tony was able to observe their flight patterns. Unlike robots that he'd faced, these robots seemed to be what he'd expected: superior. 

Immediately when Tony has dropped back behind them, each robot had taken a seemingly random flight path. So far all they'd done was weave back and forth at random intervals, but he was sure that if he fired, they'd take on a more drastic pattern of movement. 

With repulsor technology, neither robot left much of a smoke trail, naturally, there was a trail of disturbed air and energy, but not enough to actually pollute the air. It was one of the things that Tony had prided himself on. This fact, however, made it quite difficult to get target locks on them. Lucky for Tony though, it was night time. 

In the design of the suits, he'd gotten hung up on many different issues (icing, size, functionality, etc.). One of these issues has been the sheer amount of light output that the repulsors had. While using repulsor technology, stealth wasn't exactly a strong point. This had proved to be an issue most of the time. But this was not one of those times.

Each robot was lit up like a Christmas tree, their repulsors blazing with light. 

So it was without much trouble, that Tony blasted the first robot out of the sky.

The second robot immediately dove for the streets, coming down so low that its feet almost grazed the pavement. 

 _Oh shit_. Thought Tony as he saw what they were heading for. _They've been leading me into a trap the whole time!_

One street had been booby-trapped, kept purposely dark so that unwary travelers would go right into/over it and get taken down. The street had lit up the moment that Tony had come within range of its large arsenal.  

On the street sat rows of anti-aircraft guns, robots, and laser rifles. All of which were now firing at him. 

 

It was like being in the middle of a fireworks show. Flashes of green and blue light arced all over the place, ricocheting off of buildings. Tony ducked, rolled, twisted, anything to break their lock on him. It only worked half the time. While he was able to prevent the heavy lasers getting a direct hit, he was scoured from all directions by the lighter shots. Several times, a heavy laser or anti-aircraft gun would graze him and send him off balance. 

Scratches and grazes in his armor from New York soon became overlaid with newer bullet holes and scorch marks. Red paint was scoured off and replaced with the silver-titanium alloy of the metal underneath it. None of that mattered though, for it was (mostly) all superficial.  

The Mark 7 suit was the most updated and battle-ready suit that Tony had. Its many instruments and fine tunings set it apart from all his others. The suit had been built for stuff like this. It had been upgraded (countless times)in the many hours of work, to be close to perfect in a fight. Now, against such odds, Tony wielded the suit with close to its full potential. Even with limited resources and power, the suit proved its worth.  

In one sweep, he activated his lasers and fried the whole row of anti-aircraft guns. Small explosions followed in its wake, sending fire and shrapnel everywhere. 

Leaving their metal bodies to fall to the ground, he took off for the glowing skyline. 

Tony hadn't gone five minutes before spotting another trouble zone. He immediately changed course to meet it. After all, when you get an abandoned city, why should there be a large section of it on fire? 

Circling above the area, he struggled to see through the thick smoke. There was a block of street that was shaped like a "T", with one long street meeting a three-way stop. It was easy to see the outlines, but beyond that, the haze clouded everything over. There were a bunch of shapes moving around on the long street, but detail eluded him.

When he finally got a look at what was going on, he received a shock. 

It was a bunch of... _kids_? 

A young girl, probably around age ten or eleven was running down the street. She was dressed in gold-plated armor, a red cape, and wielded a long sword that looked like it should have been too heavy for her. The girl reminded Tony of Thor for some reason. The armor pattern maybe? Or was it the long golden hair? 

Next to her -also running- was a boy with short red hair. He wore a dark leather jacket and jeans. The only thing that really set him apart was the shield. Captain America's shield was decent sized and looked _right_ on a grown man. On a child though, the shield -with its stars and stripes- just seemed to be too large. 

There were clearly other kids there, but they were blocked from view by the buildings. 

The two were fighting what looked like a giant robotic spider. With its eight legs and control box (its head), it lashed out with razor-sharp legs, destroying everything it touched. 

Both kids seemed to be doing fine, but they could not see what Tony could. 

As the kids blew up stuff and battled the eight-legged creature, there were waves and waves of armed robots coming their way. None of them could see the peril that they were in, for the robots were still at least a block away. 

As the pair finished, they split up. The girl took off towards the 3 way stop and the boy for the other end of the street. 

Tony wasn't sure what to do. He could engage the robots where they were (farther away from the kids) or he could go help them. Unable to make up his mind, he hovered inside the cloud of smoke. After all, he could be regarded as the enemy. He also could just fly down and obliterate the robots. 

It was so unlike him to stop in a situation like this. Whether it was out of sheer exhaustion, or out of legitimate caution, he did not know. All the same, Tony found himself actually hesitating to go back into battle.  

Then a wave of robots reached the street where the kids were (he had greatly underestimated the speeds that the bots could move at). Their weapons glowed as they powered up. To Tony's horror, he saw that they were all laser shooters. At least a dozen of them had already leveled weapons at the girl in golden armor who, still running towards the 3-way stop, was oblivious. Clearly, the bots had thermal imaging as a part of their programming.

Pushing his suit into a vertical dive, Tony streaked towards the girl. Whether he was marked as friend or foe (by her), it didn't matter. All he knew was that she was fighting the robots and that made her their target.

Tony streaked towards the ground, powering up his repulsors as he went. He kept the angle shallow so that he would not create another crater in the ground. Wind roared in his ears, whistling past the gap in his suit. 

With a yell, he collided with the robots, physically bowling over at least ten of them, before hitting the ground and skidding on his left side. He skidded backward, powered only by his foot repulsors, James Bond style. Metal screamed underneath him, sending sparks flying. 

Tony had engaged the robots just as the girl rounded the corner. Taking a quick peek at her, he took in the look of surprise and utter amazement on her face. Her blue eyes were wide and her mouth formed an "O". She didn't even see the robot pointed its gun at her side.

"Watch out, kid!" Tony yelled over the noise. The girl appeared to jerk back to reality, raising her sword up to deflect the laser blast. Returning his attention to the robots, Tony powered up his lasers and began to slice through them like they were butter. 

There seemed to be an endless flow of bots this time. As many as he shot down, two seemed to take its place. He was tiring quickly, sweat trickling down his face and into his eyes. It had been a very long day already, with the battle of New York and all...

 _Now this_.

 _Seems the world's gone to hell and taken me with it._ He thought as he plowed his way through the swarm of metal bodies. Oil and red-hot metal flew in all directions, coating everything.

The longer the combat lasted, the more afraid the Tony became for his shoulder. It was easily the weakest link in the suit. Several times, he was pinned to the ground by the sheer number of robots, their weight overwhelming him. Every time, he blasted them off with the unibeam (paired with his repulsors). So far, he'd gotten lucky and avoided any robots who tried to take advantage of his injury, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

The girl was doing great. He was even more convinced now that ever that she was at least _part_ Asgardian. The way that she could just plow through swarms of bots was incredible. And for her being a child... well it just made the fact that she was still _alive_ even more amazing. 

Finally, there came a break from the action. Bodies of robots lay piled in heaps all around them, creating barriers and obstructions for any incoming forces. Oil lay in puddles around them like it had been raining the stuff for hours. Several of the oil "pools" were several inches deep and created deadly traps if lit on fire. 

Maybe it was the fact that he'd been in two battles in one day, or maybe it was because of his shoulder wound, Tony didn't know. All he did know was that his knees were giving out. In a last surge of energy, he was able to grip the corner of the building next to him to steady himself. Air wasn't getting to his brain and the walls of the street seemed to sway. He choked, feeling as though he was being suffocated. He shut his eyes, feeling a strong urge to be sick. 

 _What's happening to me?_ The sob never left his lips. Eyes squeezed tightly, he tried not to be puke. The effort was too much for his knees and he slowly sank down to the ground.

There was a pounding of footsteps. Presumably, the rest of the kids had come. Tony turned away, not wanting them to see his face as he lifted the faceplate. Fresh air flooded his senses, calming him. He took several deep breaths before closing his armor once more.

He could hear the kids whispering among themselves.

_"Is he ok...?"_

" _What's wrong with him?"_

Tony slowly climbed back his feet. His knees shook as they took on his weight but they held. He turned to face the kids, embarrassed at the scene he'd just created.

The redhead with Cap's shield looked him over, suspicious. Tony had seen that look before, but it had been on someone else's face. _Cap's maybe? Natasha's?_

As Tony looked at all the kids, he began to recognize some of their traits. Some, of course, he did not. For instance, the boys in yellow and black. 

The boy in yellow was the smallest of the whole group, standing a head shorter than the girl. He wore a yellow bodysuit and boots. His suit had some armor at the knees and elbows, that were highlighted in black. He had tousled dark hair and eyes that displayed an endless flow of curiosity. 

The other boy had dark skin and eyes. His hair was cropped short to his scalp. His suit was dark and had a similar form to Natasha's but with silver lines that traced across his arms and chest. His movements had a certain grace to them, like a cat. 

A theory began to form in Tony's mind as his eyes wandered over the kids. 

The tallest boy -with white-blond hair and dark eyes- carried a bow... 

The red-headed kid carried a shield...

Not to mention the girl looked like Thor.

 _The Mini Avengers_?

"Who are you guys?" Tony asked, his voice sounding quite loud in the silence that had fallen. 

"I have a better question," said the girl, coming to stand in front of Tony, "you're not Tony. Tony is dead... so who are _you_?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -Clint_


	4. Chaos (3)-We are the Avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking up in a strange version of New York, Clint Barton is faced with a dilemma: It is clear that he ha been missing for a long time. After some time, he realizes that it isn't just him. Almost all the Avengers disappeared after New York. 
> 
> But where did they go?
> 
> There are some strange clues left behind as to where some of his teammates could have gone, but none of it makes any sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I've been updating all of my past work, beefing it up a bit. Hopefully the overall reading experience has gotten better for you guys. I know the first chapter was rough at first (sorry). 
> 
> This chapter is for all you Hawkeye fans! ;)
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> POTENTIAL EMH/AA SPOILERS - This goes for the part of the story written from Clint's point of view! - I'm not keeping track, but there could be- you have been warned!

Clint woke up on a lavished couch, his face deeply buried in a pillow. With a groan, he rolled over onto his back. There was a general feeling of deja vu in the air. Hadn't it been, what, several hours since he'd woken up on a rooftop? Stretching, he looked down at himself as he felt the familiar pull of his uniform. _Yep, he was still dressed up..._ Without much reasoning for it, he held up his hands and looked at him. There they were, just as dirty and worn through as his uniform. He made a fist with his left hand and found it to be stiff and sore. Wincing, he rubbed his knuckles with his right. 

Looking around, he saw the rest of the room. Red-painted walls surrounded a beautifully decorated/laid out living room. Along one wall was a large, flatscreen TV, while on the other, a large archway leading to another hall. Part of Clint remembered what it was: it was the tunnel to the entrance. Windows lined the walls, brightening the whole room, but not enough to get rid of the cozy feeling that it gave off. Similar to the lobby of a hotel, there were couches and tables scattered all across the room. A crystal chandelier hung above him, one of several in the room, its crystals slowly dancing in the breeze that came through one of the open windows. Sunlight reflected off a few of its crystals and sent bright patches of light in an array, across the room. 

Opposite to the front hall, and open to the lounge, was the kitchen. It was spartan and lined with plain counters/cabinets. A coffee machine and sink sat beside a large fridge that was covered with a large variety of sticky notes. He tried to angle his head so that he could read some of them, but the writing proved to be too small. 

Clint sat up, feeling muscles protest. His back made several audible _popping_ sounds and he grimaced, arching it to give it more of a stretch. It sounded horrible but felt amazing. His joints were stiff as hell which was no surprise. As a SHIELD agent, he'd experienced the brutal training program in preparation for excursions such as this. The real thing, however, was always harder. There were always more unexpected twists and turns in a fight because the conflict in the real world was  _real_. Sure, some of the elite agents/spies had gone into the real world and had to go through some tough solo missions, but that was different. There was always a sense of security there in missions of that kind. After all, as an agent, SHIELD had your back. Even back in New York, there was a sense of connection because of the Avengers. Because of that "security", you rarely were fighting for your life. In New York, the sheer number of attackers had pushed all of them to the upper levels of their physical capabilities. 

There was the sound of pounding feet and laughter. A young woman with short chocolate-brown hair and eyes dashed into the kitchen, her black and yellow dress swirling around her knees. She was followed by an unmasked Spider-man who, as Clint had predicted, was quite young as well. He was only recognizable -to Clint- because he was wearing the bottom half of his suit (he had a red T-shirt on as well). 

Upon seeing Clint, the girl stopped short and clapped her hands to her mouth, her face going red. Spider-man, unprepared for her sudden stop, barreled into her. She yelped as they crashed to the floor in a heap. 

Ant-man had entered the room after them and leaned against the countertop, wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans. He was laughing, his shoulders shaking with mirth as he watched the two younger people try to recover. 

Clint couldn't help but laugh along. There was a pureness about the place, amplified by the actions of its occupants. It was intoxicating. In SHIELD, everything was quite serious and grim, always on a mission. There was hardly any time to bond, to make friends. Here, it was clear that each person was quite close to each other. He felt a slight pang as he watched them. 

 _Is this what we could be like?_ He wondered, _as a team? As the Avengers?_ Part of him cringed at the thought of getting close to people like Stark or Banner, but mostly, he felt that he could become friends with those people... even if Stark drove him crazy.

Captain Marvel strolled into the kitchen doorway where she stopped and stood there, hands on her hips. Her shoulder-length blond hair was pulled back into a small pony-tail and she sported a blue shirt and sweatpants. Her expression was stern but quickly melted into a smile. 

"Janet! Peter!" She laughed, "I'd have thought that there was a stampede up here. Keep it down!"

Peter and Janet looked up at her sheepishly from the floor. This did not last long, however, as Janet - the girl in yellow and black - leaped back to her feet and looked Marvel straight in the eye.

"I wanted to see if you guys were telling the truth!" She cried, turning to Clint halfway through, "I mean how often do we see an _original_ member of the Avengers?" 

"Uhmm," Peter (Spider-man) said from the floor, "we don't."

Captain Marvel pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, "how about making breakfast? Seeing that Logan is still out on his overnight mission and Falcon is still asleep, we might as well just start the day. Anyone see Steven today?"

"Nah," said Ant-man, "said last night that he was going to look at some cosmic anomaly. He thought that it might have something to do with Hawkeye's appearance."

With that, everyone stared at him, as if waiting for some kind of response. 

"Uhh, look, guys," said Clint, "I honestly don't even know how I got here." 

There was an awkward pause as Clint looked at the floor, shuffling his feet nervously.

"Scott, Hawkeye, I want you two to come with me," said Captain Marvel. Janet and Peter made a move to follow but she held up her hand. "Remember, you two got breakfast duty. You won't be missing anything, just filling in our new friend here about what's happened since New York."

Crestfallen, the two younger members began to prep the kitchen as Clint followed the others out of the room. 

The hallway out of the kitchen was long and lined with rooms (many of which had closed doors). They went down a set of stairs into a workshop of sorts. Tools, tablets, and computer monitors were everywhere, many of them sporting interesting designs or resting on unfinished projects. 

Captain Marvel stopped at a large monitor and extended her hand to Clint.

"I don't think we've had a proper introduction yet. I'm Carol Danvers and this is Scott Lang. You may have met the others earlier." 

Clint took her hand and shook it, feeling slightly dazed. "Clint Barton," he replied, just to be polite. 

There was a silence, then the question that had been bugging him for hours finally burst out. 

"Why do you trust me?" He asked, "you clearly have villains here, probably some that can impersonate other people. I just randomly appeared on a rooftop last night..."

Scott shook his head, "it's not random." 

Carol pulled up a file on the monitor and saw that it was a picture of New York during the Chitauri attack. It had clearly been taken off of someone's phone. Even though the photo was quite blurry, Clint could clearly make out the Avengers all standing back-to-back in a circle. 

"This was taken-"

"-during the battle in New York," finished Clint, "I _know_."

"Well," said Scott hesitantly, "that was two years ago."

"You, Captain America, Black Widow, and Hulk went missing," Carol looked downcast, "SHIELD immediately sent out people to look for you, but you were missing. They looked for about six to eight months before the first wave of villains started to pop up. Red Skull started blowing up stuff off the west coast and MODOK joined AIM. SHEILD tried to battle them alone but they couldn't. They were spread too thin, so they recruited another team. They kept the name "Avengers". None of us feel like it's right though...there was no confirmation of what happened to you..." Her voice trailed off. 

"Let's face it," said Ant-man, "you guys have been lost for two _years_! Even when you'd been gone for 6 months, there wasn't any word that you were alive. _Nothing_."

Seeing where they going, Clint quickly cut in, "Hey! I don't think you guys understand! The media probably dramatized the meaning of the Avengers in the first place. We weren't a team. We were just a band of misfits and random people with special abilities. The only reason that we were in New York in the first place was because of SHIELD recruiting us! Don't feel like you've stolen or taken the name away from anyone. I'm sure that the others would agree that you deserve it if they were here. Remember, I saw what you guys did last night. That's something that we only got one chance to do. It just so happens that it was on a large scale... and on live television. So yeah, like I said, don't worry about it."

Scott and Carol both looked relieved.

"Anyway, you say that all of us disappeared? What do you mean by that, do you know anything?" Clint asked, feeling anxiety creep into his voice. 

"Yeah," said Carol, her voice sounding oddly muffled, "we do. Back in New York, as I'm assuming you've figured out, you weren't the only one to disappear. In the same night, all of the Avengers mysteriously dropped off the face of the earth. Well... almost all of them. Thor has been stuck on Asgard ever since New York and Stark is listed as MIA but we're pretty sure that he didn't make it..."

Clint nodded, looking down at the ground. It was the answer that he'd been expecting. When that portal closed, everyone had known that there was no way Stark would be coming back. 

"Did you know him very well?" Asked Carol softly.

"Didn't really get a chance," he replied, "all I know is that I completely underestimated him."

"I'm sorry," said Scott, glancing at Carol who nodded. 

Shaking himself loose of the memory, Clint refocused on their issue. They had three missing people to track.

"Just a few months ago, Steven-Doctor Strange joined us," Carol continued. "With his help, we were able to put together several theories as to what happened. We can't rule out the possibility of technological involvement, but there's a very high likelihood that we're dealing with magic. Scott and Strange have been working together to track down these _anomalies_."

"Basically patches of land that have been changed by magic," Scott chimed in, "with the tech that I've been coming up with and Strange's magic, we've been tracing signatures all around the world."

"The problem is that there are at least three different villains that use magic," Carol threw a glance at Scott. "But none of them have enough power to send people through time. We still have no idea who it is."

Scott typed several keywords into a tablet and handed it to Clint who paled, staring at it in disbelief. 

"In our spare time, Steven and I would go through all the most recent discoveries found by scientists. It was just a hobby, ya know? It was our thing... it was until this showed up," he gestured at the picture. 

Clint scrolled down and saw that it came with an article,"Can I keep this?" He asked, gently waving the tablet. 

Scott didn't look surprised, "sure!" 

For the next ten minutes, Carol and Scott informed him on what had been going on with the "new" Avengers. Clint could not seem to focus during this time. His mind kept going back to the article that he'd seen. 

Finally, Peter came thundering down the stairs and yelled that breakfast was ready. This shook Clint out of his daze. 

"Clint, are you alright?" 

He shook himself to clear his head, "I'm fine... uh, do you have anyplace that I could, you know, shower? Possibly get a change of clothes?" He was filthy and still in uniform.

"Of course!" Said Scott, sounding mortified that he could've forgotten in all the excitement, "I can show you to a room and have Jarvis get you something from the storerooms-"

"-Jarvis?"

Clint's head was spinning, but his gut twisted at the sound of the AI's name. After all, he'd been the last thing that Clint had heard before disappearing. He made a mental note to question the AI asap. 

"This building was built by Stark as a possible (private) conference center. It was not fully completed when the Chitauri invaded and was far enough away that it wasn't affected. Mrs. Potts took over the construction of the place and later donated it to the Avengers as a new base of operations. Of course, she and Scott went through and beefed up its security first. Without Stark, there was no one left that _really_ knew how to work Jarvis so he became more of our research tool. After all, Rhodes and Pepper are the only ones left who have Alpha clearance." 

As Carol finished, Scott lead Clint back through the doorway and into a nearby elevator. Carol and Peter both headed for the stairs. As the doors closed, Scott breathed a sigh of relief and let himself fall against the dark metal. Clint stared at him.

"I don't think you realize how long we've been looking for you. Scientists, media... they've all been searching for any sign that you guys are still alive. That news report was taken into consideration -by them- to be proof of the Avenger's death, but we convinced them otherwise. We need to keep a low profile. As a team, we can't afford to show weakness at this point. Your Avengers has always been their favorite. The only huge issue that we've had is a number of villains that want to take credit of your deaths. Both SHIELD and the team know that the only currently known villain that could possibly be linked to the disappearances is Loki."

"So I basically have a great big target on my head?" Mused Clint, trying to mask his shock from earlier.

"Ha," Scott scoffed, "more like you've become the number one target of the press and the villains (that want the bragging rights). It's a villain's dream to kill an original Avenger." 

There was a silence while Clint struggled to process all the information that he'd just been told. So there was a line of villains who wanted to kill him? _Huh_. That was new. 

"You'd be surprised," said Scott, "not a lot has changed since you left. Technology-wise, at least." 

Clint grunted. 

Scott looked like he was about to say more, but the door dinged and opened on the housing level. It was a long hallway, like in a hotel. Doors lined the walls, leading to countless rooms and apartments. Scott lead him all the way to the end of the hall and opened the door. Inside was a large (spartan) apartment room with a full bed and bathroom. A large bay window opened to a small balcony at the end of the room (smaller windows also were present in the bedroom and bathroom). Crates sat against the walls and on the floor, waiting to be opened. 

"There's a ton of stuff in those crates: Toiletries, clothes, blankets, all you'll need," Scott said. 

Clint thanked him as the other man made his exit, clicking the door shut behind him.

Of all the rooms he'd been in, this room offered the most "homely" feeling yet. The windows and bed perfectly balanced comfort and efficiency. The crates did indeed have everything Clint needed, including a small touchpad to connect to Jarvis from. 

Feeling overwhelmed, Clint sat down in the small lounge chair that sat against the wall across from the bed. He remembered the tablet and pulled it out, dreading what he would see there. 

* * *

**GAMMA GIANT? - March 16, 2015**

**At 6:00 pm yesterday, scientists unveiled their newest discovery at Harvard University.**

Scientists are baffled as studies of the "Gamma Giant" continue. Estimated to be from the Mesozoic era, the bones of a giant man were discovered near Death Valley. 

 

* * *

 

Clint rarely was the over-emotional guy. He set his goal (and his target) and plowed through the challenges that followed. After all, he was a SHIELD agent with a purpose. Emotions were only a distraction. Allowing one's self to get drawn in and too involved in them could lead to many easily-avoided consequences. Somehow this experience and the fact that he might have had the opportunity be a part of a new family had gotten through the many years of mental discipline to stop himself from feeling such emotions. It had brought new things to him, but also a terrible nostalgia for the past. These ideas had shaken him to the core.

Or maybe it was just the sight of the Hulk's -Bruce Banner's- cold, dead skeleton, lying in the taped-off zone of an archeological excavation, leaking gamma radiation into the ground. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -Natasha_
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> This chapter was quite difficult to write because, like Chapter 1, there was a lot of introductions and descriptions (yuck).


	5. Chaos (4) -Disenchanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Natasha have come out of the time portal... but in a new place, a new time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of all chapters, this is the one that really got me emotionally. Had to listen to at least a half hour of sad music before getting into the right mood to write this. 
> 
> Had to adjust the warnings and tags just for this chapter.
> 
> I'm expecting that, as the series keeps going, more tags will appear that previously were not there.

There was a loud clap of thunder and Natasha flew through the air. Panicking for a second, she flailed about and managed to grab something to break her fall -which happened to be someone's shoulder- She landed with a loud _oomph_ on top of Steve who grunted as she slammed into his chest. Groaning, she gingerly picked herself up. 

"You ok?" She asked him as she dusted herself off. 

"I've been better," he admitted as he picked up his shield. 

"Where-" Her question was cut by a loud explosion and the sound of gunfire. 

The pair of them had landed in an alleyway between two apartments. The pavement was cracked and worn beneath them. The high rise buildings were all weathered, with their windows all shattered into a million pieces. Nearby, there was a large crater, chunks of metal surrounded it, several of them shining a bright red. One end of the alley was a dead end, but the other lead to a street. A lamp post stood on the side of the road, tipped over and smashed. 

Steve bent down to examine some of the metal fragments that surrounded the crater. He looked back at her seconds later, his eyes clearly expressing the shock that he shared with her. She had made the connection (clearly) much quicker. 

_Stark had been here._

Natasha heard explosions and barely ducked in time to avoid being hit in the face with several large chunks of brick. Steve automatically raised his shield and blocked the rest of the falling debris. Without much thought, both of them made a crazed dash for the road. Beyond it lay a city, but not a bustling, living place, but one of death and ruin. Where highrises and skyscrapers should have stood were piles of debris and caved in cement. 

It was a war zone. 

They were almost to the entrance when a man came into view, clearly running for his life. Natasha had to blink twice to understand who it was. Steve made an odd strangling sound.

Older, with long gray hair, dressed in rags, and halfway into a suit, was Tony Stark. He was firing his repulsors over his shoulder at an unseen enemy. His cheekbones jutting out of his face, accentuating how terribly thin he was. It was clear that this was a very different man than the one that Natasha and Steve had watched fly through the portal, into space.

Even as they ran towards him, Stark turned just in time to catch two great bolts of energy straight in the chest. One seared his thigh, blasting a part of the armor and separating it from his leg. The other one collided with the center of his chest.

Natasha acted before she really knew what she was doing. Sprinting towards the fallen man, she burst out into the street. Lasers arced over her head, shot from an enemy that she still did not bother to look at. 

"Stark!" She yelled, "dammit!"

She crouched over his fallen form, pulling apart his damaged chest plate to see the wound. The metal came off with a click and she set the piece aside. As the plate came off, Tony automatically brought his hand up to a point just below where the arc reactor was.

"Natasha?" He whispered, "but-" 

"Shh," she said, ordered him as she began to peel back the scorched layers of fabric. 

Natasha had seen the bolt hit Tony right where his arc reactor sat in his chest, right in his weak spot. As she began to peel back his shirt, she saw that it was worse than she thought. The heavy scar tissue had once surrounded the reactor in his chest was now a latticework of charred and bloody skin. The arc reactor was barely recognizable under all the layers of gore that now covered it. Taking a part of his shirt, Natasha gently scrubbed at the reactor's surface. The machine itself had gone dark but still sparked now and again, letting loose a whine as it did so. While the main part of it was intact, the glass that had previously encased it had been obliterated, leaving the rest of the reactor to fend for itself. Looking closely, Natasha could make out several cuts in the skin, created when the glass impacted Tony's chest. The revealed circuitry also showed signs of being impacted by debris. Glass shards and blood caked the wiring so badly that the coils were invisible to any unpracticed eye. Natasha knew that she could fiddle with the reactor and possibly make it start... 

As she traced her fibers around the metal rim, Tony brought up his hand to swat it away.

"No," he hissed through gritted teeth. This took effort and he let his head sag backward before continuing.

"It...doesn't... matter!" He choked out.

As his hand fell back to where it had been clasped over his chest, she saw something. 

Catching his arm before it fell, she raised it up to see what he had been hiding. 

Below the arc reactor was a swath of bandages, tightly bound against his body.  Seeing as the job was incredibly sloppy and all the ties were in front (facing up), Natasha chanced a guess that Tony had done the binding himself.

As she tore through the rough fabric, she began to see something green. A portion of Tony's skin, just above the abdomen, was severely burned. Veins in the area of impact were tinted a toxic green, seeming to glow against his pale skin. Natasha gasped, she'd never seen anything of the kind before.

Steve came rushing over from where he had been standing and raised his shield to protect them. He grimaced and looked down, his expression twisting between sorrow, despair, and was that _longing_? Upon seeing the multiple wounds on the other man's body, his face went white.

"What happened?" He asked tightly. 

Natasha shrugged, worriedly. Just the sight of the wound left her with the chills.

Tony's eyes had been squeezed shut (he was clearly still conscious though- and they flew open as he heard Steve's voice. The sight of the man-made Tony go a deep pale. 

"S-Steve?" He stammered, his voice hoarse and strained, "I was there... I must be dead already. You _died_ , Steve. You _both_ died." Tony looked at the pair of them,  his eyes betraying the pain that he felt. It was not a physical pain, but the pain of memory, "you told me to look after James, to protect them... to protect the kids..." 

A shuddering cough wracked his body. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and traced down his chin. Natasha moved, propping up Tony's head on her lap. The movement must have been excruciating for him, for he shut his eyes and moaned.

Natasha motioned for Tony to stay quiet. Naturally, he ignored her.

Steve's face was still a mix of emotions. Natasha looked back at him, her hands still supporting what was left of Tony's shirt. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick. 

"The _kids_...?"

Natasha and Steve's eyes met. She saw confusion and sadness there, mixed in with a

"Tony!" Came a high pitched cry from the other side of Steve's shield. Hesitantly, Steve looked over. 

There, standing in the middle of the street, stood two kids. 

The first kid was a redhead, very young, but clearly strong. He had blue eyes and a jaw that was set in an expression of worry and determination. He carried what could be only explained as a holographic version of Steve's shield. The other person was a girl, slightly taller, but wearing golden armor. She had long blond hair and blue eyes that shone with unshed tears. She looked out of place, positively gleaming in the sunlight, against the other's leather jacket and jeans. Both stood in a circle of fallen soldiers that were dressed in blue and yellow suits, several of which had been carrying rifles -clearly the laser shooters and guns of sorts. Even as the girl had cried out, several of them had fallen to the ground (presumably dead).

When the redhead saw Steve's face, his expression went from determination to shock, amazement, then back to worry. His eyes paused on the shield for a moment before falling to Tony. It was almost as though he were purposely avoiding Steve's eyes. He was hiding his emotions. 

"Torunn, wait!" He cried as the girl next to him (obviously Torunn), made a dash for Tony. The other boy followed more hesitantly. Burying her sword in the ground, she knelt above him. One of her hands hovered over the wound in his chest. A large tear began to slide down her cheek. 

"Don't cry," Tony whispered, opening his eyes. Torunn shook her head as more tears fell. 

Natasha was speechless, still supporting Tony. Torunn clearly was related to Thor in some way. This theory was only supported by the way that the other boy resembled Steve (also the shield was a dead giveaway). 

Tony looked up at Steve and Natasha. He focused in on Steve's face before sliding his gaze to the boy that had come to stand beside him. 

"James, I guess you finally did it... you've finally... met your parents." 

"No..." Whispered the redhead -James- faintly. Tears swam in his eyes but did not fall.

Tony's face was turning ashen, Torunn slapped him gently to try to revive him but failed. Finally, he drew one last shuddering breath. A sigh ran through him and his head fell back. James bent down and closed Tony's eyelids. Torunn let out a soft wailing noise that was barely audible. 

Of all the times in her life, Natasha did not know what to say. She was still taking in the whole idea of portals into outer space. To see the death of her friend for the second time that day, plus kids...? What was one supposed to say to that?

"How touching!" Came a sneering, female voice, "A family moment! Hah, about as emotional as that chunk of dead ego on the ground."

A woman was casually leaning against the side of a building nearby. She was clothed in a very revealing, skintight, green outfit. Long, waist-length golden hair swirled in the slight breeze. She was picking at a spot on her nail, examining it as though the people around here not worth her time.

"Then again, I could always tell you that all of this was built for you, Steve. Just to unbalance you, to _hurt_ you!" She emphasized the word "hurt" with a soft giggle. 

James let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snarl and hurled his shield at the woman. 

With a flick of her wrist, the woman dispatched the shield and sent it hurtling through a nearby window. Crashing noises came from inside, clearly, the shield was smashing whatever remained of the room. 

"Oops," she smiled, " _touche_."

Natasha stood, gently lowering Tony's head to the ground as she went, and slowly unfastening the clip that held her sidearm in place. Her thumb grazed the trigger. 

Torunn also rose and stood by her shoulder. Her tears had not yet dried and shone on her young face as she glared at their new opponent. Wordlessly, she summoned her sword to her. The soft thump of the pummel meeting her outstretched fingers reverberated in the air. 

The woman's eyes widened as they took in Torunn. " _Thorsdottir_!" She spat, "I should have known." 

Raising her arm, the woman shot a large bolt of energy at Torunn. 

Before the girl had any time to react, Steve leaped between them and raised his shield, deflecting the shot. Torunn ducked beneath him and yelled something incoherent, charging the witch with her sword leveled. James followed suit, pushing buttons on his armband and conjuring up a new shield. Steve looked at Natasha and they both nodded. Natasha rushed to a flanking position on the right while Steve took the left.

"Hah! Needs protecting from the super soldier. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!" The woman laughed as she saw Torunn's face.

Torunn went red with anger and raised her sword to the skies, simultaneously pushing Steve aside like he was a rag doll. He stumbled but did not fall. Thunder boomed overhead ominously. Lightning arced down towards her, lighting her blade a deadly blue. With a yell, she directed the energy towards the woman who was barely fast enough to raise a shield around her. 

"You killed Tony!" Torunn yelled, tears streaming down her face, "you deserve to die for such a crime!"

The only response that Torunn got was a cruel laugh from the witch. 

James threw his holographic shield, but it bounced off the energy. Catching it, he spun to absorb the force of the rebound. 

Natasha was impressed, clearly Tony had taught the kid that. It was a classic Captain America move. She shot bullets from her pistols into the force field, but they were absorbed similarly. Cursing under her breath she ran several circuits of the bubble, looking for a possible weak spot. 

Then Steve joined in the fight. With a yell, he drew back his shield and hurled it at the force field. When the vibranium hit the magical bubble, it drove right through the magic, shattering the forcefield. The force of the punch that followed sent the woman staggering. 

The shield skidded to a stop close to Natasha's feet and she picked it up, ready to return it to its rightful owner. 

"No one harms the Enchantress in such a foul manner!" The woman howled as she picked herself up from the ground.

 _Asgardian,_ thought Natasha. _Who else talks like that?_

Steve raised his fist, ready to deliver a firm punch to the Enchantress, but froze instead. Natasha ran towards him, shield strapped to her arm.

With a cruel laugh, the Enchantress opened a portal beneath Steve's feet and disappeared. James looked horror-struck.

Natasha skidded to a halt, shield raised, as the crazed witch sent a bolt of energy towards her. She'd seen Captain America almost get knocked off his feet by one of her shots, she knew it would do far more to a normal human. The bolt hit with a small explosion, sending her flying backward. Rolling to come to a stop, she skidded on the shield's surface. 

Her training kicking in, she pulled out one of her pistols and fired at least six shots at the Enchantress. In Natasha's wild frenzy, two of them met their mark: one clipping her in the arm, and the other buryingitself in her leg. The other woman gasped, falling to her knees. One hand was clapped over the wound in her leg, but the other rose to point directly at Natasha. 

The next thing she knew, Natasha was falling through the air, pain lancing through her side, clutching Captain America's shield to her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, holding the shield closer to her.

If what the Enchantress said was true, the shield might be all that she had left.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -Tony/Steve_


	6. Chaos (5)-Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rodgers lands in the future and quickly realizes that the world that he has landed in is not a joyful one. Nor is it safe (in the slightest). It is a world of metal and death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to shorten the chapters and increase the depth of the writing. This being my first work, I'm hoping to gain some experience and positive writing habits :) Chapter 5 was my first attempt at short + depth. 
> 
> Please, if you have anything that could help me improve, please tell me.

Tony stared at the kids and they stared right back at him. Shock was etched on their young faces. All of them were tense. It was clear that the kids did not have the slightest clue as to what to do.

The little guy in yellow looked him over, "it looks like Iron man to me."

"Of course, Henry, because it has to be him!" Said the guy in dark clothing, "who else could it be?"

"Hey Azari, you know that Ultron could just be sending him as a decoy?" Said the redhead, sniffing, "we have seen him do this before."

_Ultron? Was he one of the robots?_

The white-haired kid glared at Tony, his eyes revealing the mistrust that he had for the armored man.

"I mean, you said that he made an Iron Legion for every Avenger. This is probably no different, he just made himself one and forgot to tell us about it,"  the boy said, shrugging.  "I mean he forgot to tell you about Ultron."

" _Francis_!" Hissed Henry, glaring.

The girl, who had been quiet the whole time, finally spoke up.

"That's not a robot. And stop talking about him like that! Is that all we think of him as?" Her eyes burned a cold fire as they stared at James.

"Torunn, are you sure?" Azari carefully began to look over Tony, circling him like he was stalking prey.

Tony flipped up his faceplate and the sense of insecurity shattered like glass. Even in a tense situation like this one, Tony had not lost his sense of humor. Forcing himself into a superficial sense of ease, he put on his game face. One part of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, he looked down at the scene in front of him.

The reactions were priceless, but somehow, unsatisfying. Torunn was the only one that really showed any emotion as she had clapped her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide.

The three boys all backed up in surprise, their jaws dropping open. Henry was elbowing James in an attempt to get his attention but was failing miserably as the other was merely staring at Tony, slack-jawed. It was quite clear that they had not been expecting him. 

Tony would have liked to ask about the place, to make some snarky comment, or laugh at their reactions, but the mood was wrong. They had _definitely_ thought that he was a robot. A silence fell over them, making him shiver. He was saved by the sound of robotic footfalls on the ground. The next wave of robots was on its way. With a soft _clank_ , Tony's faceplate came down.

"We need to get out of here!" Tony said, glancing at the kids next to him. "Do you have anywhere safe?"

"Say that we trust you," said James, taking charge, "who's to say that you won't turn on us and kill us. For all we know, you're some creepy mirror image of Tony that Ultron cooked up!"

"I'm not a robot!" Tony replied, his jaw set firmly underneath the suit, "I'm human, and I have no fu-idea what's going on here!" He'd caught himself about to swear.

Torunn spoke up, "he's Iron man, I remember that suit in the stories. No one can build it like Tony can. It has to be him!" With that, she started dragging James and Henry down the street, away from where the robots were coming from. 

The decision to trust Tony lead to a long, frenzied chase across several rubble-strewn city blocks. Clearly, still not all of the kids trusted him. Torunn seemed to be the only one comfortable with him as she'd taken a position at the very front of the procession. She was constantly sending him side looks, as if not believing that he really existed. The reactions of Henry and Azari lead him to think that they were less concerned with his presence, but didn't seem to know how to react. They took spots ahead of Tony and occasionally stole glances back at him. James and Francis, however, flanked him with clear distrust, as if they could actually do damage if he went rogue. This action gave the illusion that Tony was being held, prisoner. 

Robots could be heard behind them, their feet clattering on the asphalt. Tony was sure that there were more robots following them in the air, tracking their every movement. Even as Tony looked back from where he was flying -in formation- he could see the hundreds of electric-blue eyes swarming over rooftops and through buildings, clambering after them at a terrifying speed. Metallic hands could be seen coming over the edges of rooftops. Tony could tell that he wasn't the only one beginning to panic. Henry was constantly throwing looks over his shoulder, his face growing paler and paler each time he caught sight of the hundreds of glowing eyes. Torunn, Azari, and Francis did not seem to be too shaken up, but also did not look exactly thrilled.

The party had just reached another intersection when there was a rumbling sound from ahead. Torunn skidded to a stop and hefted her sword. Unprepared for the sudden stop, Henry stumbled and backpedaled right into Tony's armor, hitting it with a metallic _smacking_ sound.

Blue lasers exploded from an unseen rifle, blasting a hole in the building directly ahead of them. Rubble flew outwards, coating everything in a layer of dust and pebbles. In unison, the whole party ducked down. For a brief moment, all that could be heard was the _clinking_ sound of cement hitting the Iron Man suit. Then robots poured out like ants: crawling down the wall and onto the street or activating jets and coming to hover above the group.  

It was a horror film in real life. They were completely trapped.

"Where do we go now?" Cried Henry, desperation creeping into his voice.

"We don't," replied Tony. The sound of his voice seemed to calm the boy. Hell, it seemed to calm all of them.

Time seemed to slow down, each moment lasting an age. Tony was painfully aware of the pounding of his heart and the way that the kids around him had all backed into a circular, defensive position. That was no child's action. He shuddered to imagine what they must have been through to be able to steel up like that and face down such odds. He highly doubted that -at that age- he would have been able to do such a thing. Getting shunned by your father was one thing, facing down an army of deadly robots (to your death) was another.

There was a loud clap of thunder and a flash of green light off in the distance, making them all jump.The source was back the way that they had come, but Tony still stole a glance at the sky. It was exactly the way he'd remembered it was: clear.

_That's odd. It almost reminds me of..._

"New designation," came a robotic voice. Tony, who had been deep in thought, spun around to face the voice. He saw that the eyes of one of the robots' eyes had turned red.

_"Target locked, subject: Captain America, Steve Rodgers."_

_What?_

Tony made a choking noise.

_Was Rodgers really here?_

In unison, all the robots either took off into the air, climbed the buildings, or retreated back into the darkness. The sudden movement of the army startled the team as they suddenly found themselves all alone. 

Chills ran down Tony's spine as he rose to the level of the rooftops from where he'd been hovering. The buildings seemed to shimmer all around him, covered in the hundreds of -seemingly small- metal bodies. As they writhed and crawled their ways across rooftops, roads, or zigzagged between buildings, light glinted off of their metal bodies, sending small streaks of blue light into the sky above. It was a hellish sight altogether, one that would not help the growing number of psychological issues that he had. 

Tony looked at his power readings. He was way low, falling into the "red zone", indicating that he was down below twenty percent. Squinting past all the flashing lights and numerous alerts that screamed for his attention, he saw that the robots were taking a formation that was headed straight for one road.

Boosting power to his repulsors, Tony sped upwards. He could get a wider range of vision if he got more height. As he rose above the city, he began to fully take in how desolate a place it was. The place was a ruin, with buildings caved in and toppled over. Some subdivisions were left untouched, but all bore scorch marks and various remnants of a possible war. Looking forwards, towards the horizon and its golden glow, there rose a large wall of buildings. These were not ordinary buildings though, for they rose at least twice as high as Stark tower back home. With the "current" technology that shouldn't be possible... But then again, this could be another planet altogether. It was an enormous city, whatever it was, and it emitted a light that could be seen for tens of miles.

The robots, though difficult at this range to track, seemed to be headed towards the city at some strange angle.

_No. It couldn't be..._

They were headed for an area that was illuminated by a large robotic searchlight.

Tony squinted again, unable to ask Jarvis for an up-close view.

More specifically, the robots were heading for an _alley_.  An alleyway across from a very familiar-looking, lamp post in front of it. Something... no _someone_ dressed in blue was running along the street, trying to dodge out of the searchlight, clearly aware of the oncoming army of robots.

 _Rodgers_.

The robots were already halfway there, their thundering feet leaving behind a trail of dust and debris, all homing in on that speck of blue. From above, the sound was eery. It was like a mix between clanking metal feet and a (muted) roar.

Tony dropped from where he had been hovering, knowing his plan of action even before he hit the ground. He lifted the faceplate to look at his "team".

"Stay here kids," he addressed them, staring hard at James as the kid as he opened his mouth to object. The kid ground his teeth together, clearly conflicted. Tony jabbed his finger at one of the nearby buildings.

"You're going, aren't you?" Demanded Torunn, "we can't let you go alone!"

"Look" James started, "we can't do that. The last time you went out alone, you were..." He exchanged a look with Francis, "-were captured by Ultron. You remember that, right? The time after that..."

"You died," said Torunn, staring at the ground. 

A lump formed in Tony's throat. Clearly, the kids had been through hell and he had been a part of it. To what level, he did not know. What confused him was that he remembered none of it. It was clear that they thought he was a different person... or from a different time.

It finally dawned on him that he could be dealing with time travel. He took a guess and ran with it. Normally, his mind would have been on overload, trying to take in all the detail and calculations needed, _etc, etc._

"I'm not the same man that you saw die, I mean, I am, but not _really_. Just stay here and I'll bring him to you. Just _STAY PUT_. "  Tony ordered, "with my suit, I can get in and out quickly."

Not waiting for a response, Tony slammed down his faceplate and took off into the night.

It had been a long day and he wasn't about to just let Cap get himself killed.

* * *

 

Steve Rodgers materialized about ten feet off the ground in a blinding flash of green light. Silently screaming, he flipped himself over, just in time to catch the majority of the impact on his left shoulder. With a nasty _crunch_ , he hit the side of the crater and rolled onto his back. His shoulder throbbing, he lay there for several seconds, accessing his situation. The air around him was dry and dusty.  Steve sighed, it was the same place that he and Nat had landed on earlier. Nearby his head, he saw the scratches that Iron man had left in the ground, shining dimly in the darkness. Looking further, he saw only dark skies. There was no portal, no signs of life, and definitely no Natasha. There was, however, a sound like thunder but it sounded wrong, it sounded almost _metallic_.

 _Time travel?_ He'd seen it before, not to mention experienced a variation of it himself. It would be the only explanation for it suddenly becoming night time so quickly. Inwardly, he hoped that this was some bad dream, but that wouldn't explain what had happened...

 _"Then again, I could always tell you that all of this was built for you, Steve. Just to unbalance you, to hurt you!"_ The witch's words came back to him, crystal clear in the night. This was no accident, everything that had happened was on purpose.

It would certainly explain old Tony... and his death. But, on the bight side, seeing an aged Tony meant that the man had survived New York. Thinking of Stark had brought back memories of the battle. Steve let out a soft bark of laughter. _That son of a gun had cheated death again_. Maybe he'd lead a life after the incident... well, until his death... Judging by the scenery, however, the life that he'd lead wouldn't exactly be that pleasant.

Regaining focus of reality, Steve realized that the thundering noise that he'd heard earlier was getting louder. The first thing that came to mind was an oncoming storm, but there was not a cloud to be seen in the -incredibly dark- sky. The second: army? He groped around him for his shield and received a shock when he realized that it was missing. Remembering how Natasha had been holding it when he had been sucked into the portal, he breathed a slight sigh of relief. At least it was with a friend. Still, all the same, he felt oddly naked without it. It was as though he'd been stripped of something protective, something he cared deeply for. He had been with that shield for years and this was the first time that he'd lost it.

Steve leaped to his feet. His legs were wobbly and weak, but he managed to steady himself before he hit the ground a second time. He had to move quickly. Quick and precise movements in the daytime were reduced to something short of blundering, as the only light was the illuminated skyline above. The alleyway came to an end several feet before he anticipated and he almost toppled forwards. He shook his head, knocking his knuckles to his forehead.

_Wake up Steve! Wake up!_

There was the sound of engines, a click, and then a blinding white light. Shielding his face against its powerful rays, Steve looked up. From what he could tell, it was some kind of flying robot that was outlined in metal. But it wasn't alone, at least not anymore. Even as he watched, more and more similar-looking robots had joined it. These robots were slightly different though and had markings on their faces. They also carried long rifles that glowed ominously.

His brain fuzzy, the whole idea of possibly facing down an army of killer robots didn't quite sink in until the bulk of the force arrived. With a muted roar, robots poured into the alleyway and down the sides of buildings.

That was all that Steve needed to see. Even with a sluggish brain, the intention was clear.

Steve turned and ran. Shield or no shield, there was no way he was facing that, especially when he was all alone.

Arms pumping and his legs almost a blur, he tore through the streets. Several times, he had to jump over toppled buildings and rubble. Once, he had to backtrack when he hit a dead end. The sound of pursuit was clear as the thunder grew ever louder, mixed in with the sound of jets. The search-bot, bless its robotic heart, was making Steve's job easier. Without being able to see where he was going, he'd have only made it a quarter of the distance. The downside was that he was broadcasted to the whole world via searchlight.

_Hello! Welcome to the completely deserted city! Oh, what do we have here? Just Captain America over here for the whole goddamn world to see._

Gritting his teeth, Steve vaulted another fallen lamp post. In the last few minutes, he'd taken to dodging in and out of overhangs and various elements that could provide cover. He was liking the light less and less. It was a beacon, drawing all eyes on him -if there were any people left-

It was when he burst into a large, open plaza, that he knew he was done for. There was absolutely no cover and... _SLAM_.

A laser blast impacted in the small of his back, knocking him flat. He hadn't meant to cry out-loud but found that he had let screamed rather loudly when the thing burned its way through both suit and skin.

 _So this is what it felt like_... He thought, rather dreamily as he remembered watching Stark take the shot to the chest.

Steve pushed himself to his feet, his eyes watering. The bolt had gone straight through his armor and burned away all the flesh underneath it. By the severity of the pain, Steve was willing to bet that it had gone almost an inch down before dispersing. He shuddered to think what it might have done to a normal human.

Stumbling forwards, Steve staggered for another few steps before falling to his knees. He was expecting the finishing blow any time now. It would be so easy for a robot just to come and shoot him...

The pain was blinding, as though someone had peeled his skin off him and taken a hot poker to his insides. His armor, that had protected him for so long, had given in like it was made of paper. Whatever that laser was made of, it was clearly constructed to have one function: to kill.

Gasping, he sat there, dazed and exhausted. New York had taken a toll on him. Even with the serum, he had been pushing his limit. He could recover from that fight, however, just like everyone else would have. Even by the time he'd gotten to Stark's penthouse, the wound in his side (where he'd been shot by a Chitauri soldier) had been healing. This fight was completely different. This wound was severe and would not heal for days, maybe weeks. That was if he didn't bleed out first.

Squeezing his eyes closed, Steve clambered to his feet, swaying as dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. There came the sound of clanking footsteps, and a soft click of a laser being primed.

 _"Steve Rodgers,"_ came a metallic voice, deep and dark. Steve opened his eyes and looked into its metallic head, its glowing red eyes seeming to meet his. It struck him that this must be their leader, even though it looked the same as the others. Or maybe just the robot that spoke got red eyes, for every other robot around him had blue eyes. They surrounded him in a tight circle, drawing closer.

"Who... the hell... are you?" He panted, raising his fists into a defensive stance.

 _"I am your nightmare,_ " the red-eyed robot responded, sounding smug, _"I was the bringer of peace in such a chaotic world."_ The robot spread his arms wide, _"was that not the fear of the Avengers? To become obsolete?"_

By now, Steve was completely surrounded. Robots above and below all had weapons trained on him. Hundreds of metallic eyes all centered on him, as though he were at some deadly rock concert.

" _Was_ the bringer of peace?" Repeated Steve, a sickening feeling developing in his stomach (and _no,_ it didn't have anything to do with the big hole in his back).

 _"Oh, I brought peace several years ago to this pathetic universe."_ Said the robot casually, _"a world of metal is always much more peaceful, so much more obedient."_ The robot seemed to smile, _"but oh, I've been talking for too long. Time to fulfill my father's wishes. Kill him."_ The robot waved his arm at Steve and the world exploded into chaos.

Steve ducked down and gripped the nearest robot, ignoring the way that his back seared with pain as he did so. With a quick jerk, he pulled the robot down and over top of him. The robot squirmed and writhed in Steve's arms as he used it as a shield. Enemy fire peppered the metal body, the smaller lasers bouncing off in a shower of sparks. Several heavy shots burned holes in the robot's shell, killing its power. Thankfully, none of the shots went all the way through the robot. Several of the smaller lasers grazed him, not even penetrating all the way through the suit.

Spinning to avoid fire, Steve drove his fist through the faceplate of a robot, feeling mild satisfaction as he felt wiring break loose under his knuckles. Ripping off the arm of the same robot, he used it as a club to drive away the hoards of robots that were still advancing towards him.

So far, the robots had tried to take him down by using bullets. Now, they changed tactics at the speed of light, abandoning all weapons and surging forwards. Steve was irritated. Theoretically, they should have taken him out by now.

_They're toying with me._

With a shout, he clubbed three or four robots through the head with the -now pulverized- arm. Arms gripped his feet, chest, and arms. As metal smashed into metal, the robots snapped backward, the wiring between head and body severed. This did not even make a dent in the oncoming force.  Robots piled high, layering on top of him and driving the breath out of his body, their metallic hands tearing at his suit. He cried out in pain as one dug into his spine, touching the wounded area. Like swimming in molasses, he began to climb upwards, his arms flailing. Finally, he burst out into the night. Several stragglers still clutched at his arms and ankles. He shook at them, trying to dislodge their unwanted touch. Like a plague, the robots surged forwards tightened their grip on him. He cursed loudly.

Steve was about to run when fingers suddenly gripped at Steve's throat. Abandoning all effort to get the other robots off of him, he scrabbled at the hand. With a sharp tug, he was dragged backward and down into the sea of flailing metal limbs. Metal dug into his spine for the second time, making him grit his teeth in agony.

As he was battered on all sides, a voice hissed in his ear, _"you're the final piece, Rodgers. I'll enjoy killing you for the second time_."

HIs vision was fogging over, the pressure on his throat was too great.

_"Say goodbye to your son."_

_Nothing made sense anymore... He couldn't do anything, his strength was failing. The world was falling away..._

Distantly, he heard a metallic yell. Blue light exploded all around him. A familiar whine filled the air, mixed with a high-pitched whistling. None of this registered with his brain. All that he knew was that the world was slowly fading away as the pressure on his throat grew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -Clint/Natasha_
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	7. Isolated (1)-Measures and Countermeasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint Barton is now faced with the harsh reality of time travel. He's not in 2012 anymore. 
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> Natasha has landed.
> 
> Sorry, I'm not very good at descriptions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/2/2018 - APPARENTLY I CAN'T SPELL SHIELD! LIKE GRRRR. So many errors.. :'(
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The shower was nice, scouring at his skin as he slowly rotated himself inside the stall. Bruises lined his arms, stinging from the water's touch. 

Clint leaned his head against the marble wall, wondering how the hell he deserved to be there. Of all his friends, he -so far- had seemed to have gotten the best luck. With a growl, he slammed his forearm into the wall, making a rather loud _thud_. He groaned at the aftershock that rippled through his bruised arm.

_How the hell did I end up here? From aliens to... time travel?_

There was no telling what could come next, no telling to who could pop up with guns blazing and another death to report. He had nothing, nothing! No anchor back to the past, he couldn't go to SHIELD, to the press, to any close friends (because he didn't have any). His team was gone, Natasha was gone, and Thor was stuck on Asgard. 

_Who can I go to?_

The only few names that popped into his head weren't promising. Most of them wouldn't believe his story even if he tried to make it convincing. He also couldn't go the SHEILD... so there went the other half of his contacts. It was at times like these that he'd talk to Natasha, but seeing as she was MIA, there wasn't much hope in that this time.

Feeling empty, Clint exited the stall, trailing water behind him. He absent-mindedly dragged a towel off of a shelf nearby. It was soft and felt nice as the wrapped it around himself, its plain white cloth seeming to glow from the sunlight that flooded through the window. 

Towel still wrapped around his waist, Clint walked over to where he'd left the tablet on the bed. His fingers traced the edge of the dark screen, leaving a soft layer of mist in its wake. It troubled him that Bruce had gone out in such a way. Clint hadn't really gotten a chance to meet the guy, but he'd seemed to be a good man. He pictured the Hulk running around, pursued by dinosaurs and shuddered. As comical as the scene seemed, he was convinced that it couldn't be far from the truth. 

Something on the bedside table beeped, making Clint jump. 

 _Damn, he was twitchy right now_. 

The small tablet that Jarvis was connected to was flashing, He picked it up, hesitating as he remembered the last conversation he'd had with the AI. With a soft click, similar to a phone being picked up off of a receiver, he pressed the screen. 

" _Sir_?" Jarvis's voice seemed to emanate from the walls of the room, "can you hear me?"

Clint almost laughed out loud, the AI was practically shaking the paint off of the walls. It left him to wonder if the rooms were lined with soundproof walls. 

"Loud an clear," he said. 

_"As I recall, the last request in your presence was to see what would become of Mr. Stark's suits? Shall I fill you in?"_

A jolt went thorough Clint, "that would be great!" 

_"Mr. Stark's access code momentarily flashed on my screen, preventing me from deleting-"_

"And Stark is MIA?"

_"That is correct"_

"How is that even possible? I mean he's probably out there in space..." 

_"There is no data on how Mr. Stark was able to upload any program, nor is there any feasible way that he could have done it at the time. The codes that he sent were codes known only to him and implemented only a day before the Chitauri arrived in New York."_

Clint moved to the crates and picked out one of the plain shirts that it contained. With a flourish, he pulled it out and held it in front of him. His mind, however, was not there. 

"Who knows about this, Jarvis? Who's the other sorry bastard who gets this news?" 

" _There are no authorized people other than you at this time,_ " the AI replied. 

"I thought as much," Clint mused, slipping into the shirt, "there's no one left..."

There was a pause, as though both AI and man were deep in thought. 

"Alright Jarvis, let's hear it," said Clint, almost afraid of what he might hear. 

_"Sir, as you know, there were a series of anomalies that took place just a matter of hours after the attack on New York. The first of which, was when Thor exited this realm. The second was when an unknown force entered Stark Tower. It strategically took out all security cameras and power. Soon after that, you, the Hulk, Mr. Rodgers, and Miss Romanov, all were pulled into three separate anomalies. This data was discovered after Dr. Strange did a specialized scan the penthouse. He recognized the energy signature as Asgardian magic."_

"Asgardian..." Clint murmured softly, "I wonder if blondie is involved..."

" _I_ t is highly unlikely," Jarvis sounded so human, his voice sounding thoughtful, " _as Thor himself left the tower about twenty minutes prior to the anomaly. The amount of energy needed just to transport one way is enormous. Also, without proper control equipment, the tesseract could prove quite volatile."_

"So if we forget Thor for a moment and look at the big picture, who would have the motives to move us around in time? Who would benefit?" 

_"There are no known villains that have the means or technology to do such a thing."_

"Damn."

As Clint paced the room, his hands fidgeted with the towel that was wrapped around his waist. He was deep in thought. 

_"Sir, would you like me to order you an extra set of clothes? Your uniform will be taken down to the basement for cleaning and repair."_

"Er, yes, Jarvis. Thank you," said Clint. He sat down on the small couch with a sigh. 

 

The rest of the day went by in a blur of meeting new people, touring the mansion's floors, and learning what had changed since he'd left. The funny thing was that the later in the day it became, the more he wished that he could see anyone from his time. Even though it was only a two-year difference from where he'd come from, it was oddly lonely. Things were very strange, similar to the old times, but different. 

By the evening, Clint would have even have welcomed Loki if the mad god showed up. Anything that tied him to the past... something to let him know that he wasn't alone.

It was a heavy heart that he flopped down onto the bed that night, wondering what would happen next.

* * *

 

 _SLAM_!

Natasha hit the cement rooftop with a noise resembling a gong. Steve's shield, which she'd held up defensively, rolled a few feet before circling to a stop. Though showing some scorch marks from the multiple laser blasts, it showed no wear and tear. 

She lay there, her body feeling as though as it was sinking into the ground. Her shoulder throbbed with pain and her side... oh lord, she didn't even begin to explain it. The pain was dull but mixed with a strange tingling. 

"I knew it!" Came a hollow snarl from behind her, "I knew that you'd come. So often do I find myself being correct by instinct? My team underestimates me... but no longer!" 

A shadow fell across Natasha's vision, blotting out the setting sun. It was a face that she had only seen in some of SHIELD's more restricted files. 

It was Dr. Doom.

Green cloak and hood, hiding most of his features, mask glowering downwards, and arms crossed over his chest, the villain regarded her with contempt. 

"Of all the heroes that we get, we get you and Hawkeye?" He snorted, "pitiful." 

_Hawkeye!_

Doom extended his hand downwards and suddenly the air was crackling with energy. Knowing what was about to happen, Natasha fumbled for the shield. She was barely able to block the electricity as it arced downwards towards her. 

"Your precious heroes tried to hold me, tried to take me for a fool. Of course, that's what they think of me. Do you have any idea how easy it is to-" 

Clearly underestimating Natasha, Doom had advanced on her. Captain America hadn't been the only Avenger to receive shield training. With a quick movement, she lunged forwards, bashing him in the chest with the shield. His armor clashed with the vibranium. The result of this action was an incredibly loud ringing sound that echoed through the streets around them. Countering, Doom's fist became a blur as he aimed a right hook at her collarbone. Natasha ducked and spun, sweeping his legs out from under him. The jarring impact of her leg with his body armor made her cry out. 

As Doom hit the concrete with a solid _thud_ , Natasha hefted Cap's shield and made a break for it. There was no way she was winning this fight in her condition. 

She ducked as electricity lit up the air above her. 

There were no escapes off of the roof, it was completely destroyed. Rubble was everywhere and scorch marks created blotchy patterns across the cement. Clearly, a battle had been here. Doom was blocking the fire escape. 

Then she saw it! It was an apartment window about six feet below the roof of her building. It had a fairly large window ledge and a small planter box outside of it. 

Natasha dove for the window, catching the lip in her outstretched fingers. The shield, which was strapped to her arm, clanged loudly against the bricks. Treading all over the already well-dead plants, she slammed the shield into the glass. Shards of glass rained down on her as she rolled to a stop. 

There was a soft _thump_ behind her and she turned. 

Doom stood right there, balanced on the windowsill, framed in the sunset. He did not attack, but rather stared at her with an intense gaze. Though the mask did not say much, his body language was clear.

"You're letting me go," said Natasha in shock, watching as the man leaned casually against the frame, picking glass off of his cape.

"I'm letting you go for good reason," said the reply, still with that annoyingly dull and hollow voice, "you were sent here, weren't you?"

Lowering the shield that she'd been holding at the ready, Natasha narrowed her eyes. Either this man was bluffing... but then again, he was supposed to be one of the brightest minds out there. It wasn't a real question, he already knew the answer.

"You know the answer, Doom," she spat back, "now what do you want and why are you-"

"The Black Widow, so feared by the underworld. Deep in your heart, you know you're one of us. At first, I wondered, why now? Why, of _all_ time in the world, does she choose _now_? " He choked out a laugh, "now I know. I had no idea that the Avengers, that SHIELD, was _so_ desperate! I knew big green was there, but oh! The idea that SHIELD would be accepting _two_ monsters?"

Natasha's eyes bored into him, "what," she hissed in an undertone, "do you know about me?" 

Doom threw her a glance that said volumes. It was a mix of pity and scorn, "enough to know that you won't be lasting a week here."

With that, the man spun on the spot and dropped out of view. Natasha waisted no time and sprinted to the window, shield still held defensively. 

He was gone. 

Natasha sighed and let her head drop. 

Everything was collapsing, her world was imploding. 

 

She hadn't recalled passing out, or anything of the sort, but the next thing she knew was that there was light. It wasn't direct lighting, but rather like someone turning on a light in a different room. 

Lifting her head from where it had been pressed against the shield, she squinted upwards.

_Was that...?_

Then she was running, no, staggering forwards. It was only when she reached the windowsill that she finally cried out. 

"Clint!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -Steve/Tony_
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> I know, I know, this chapter was short. Please bear with me though! Next chapter is coming soon and it's a fun one ;)


	8. Isolated (2)-Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark has found Steve Rodgers in the midst of a war between man and machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note/Warning: this chapter has some anxiety/PTSD moments in it, so reader, be warned!
> 
> THERE HAS BEEN AN UPDATE ON THE BEGINNING OF [Chapter 3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10573611/chapters/23551746). FIXED A LARGE PLOT HOLE.  

Steve didn't know if it had been minutes or hours, all he knew was that the pressure on his throat was gone. Robots were all around him, many of them flying in an unnatural fashion, as if being thrown off course by something powerful. Their repulsors were flaring -sending blinding flashes of light in every direction- as they struggled to stay upright.

Another robot was approaching him, this one glowing blue in the darkness. Steve tried to move backward, away from the new source of light, but found himself too exhausted to move. Blood trickled down his face into his eyes.

Then a strong metal hand clamped down on his shoulder, pulling him forwards.

_What the hell?_

The last thing that Steve knew before he passed out was a  high-pitched whine and something smashing into his midsection with the force of a charging bull. 

 

* * *

  

"Cap!" Tony yelled as he dove down into the chaos below him. 

Robots piled high, all hell-bent on pinning the super-soldier to the ground. Clearly, the man was putting up a fight, judging by the robots flying away from the center of the heap. Tony would have launched several shots ahead of time but was afraid of hitting the man. After all, he was fairly sure that he'd seen him get shot...

Tony gasped as Rodgers disappeared back into the sea of metal. Something had grabbed him around the neck. Without a second's hesitation, Tony dove in after him. If he didn't act now, he was pretty sure that Cap would die.

Metal arms and legs glanced off of the armor, sending sparks up into the confined spaces between them. 

 _"_ Cap!" Tony yelled, the faceplate's speaker sputtering. 

The man was in deep, slowly getting crushed by the sheer weight of the arm, barely moving as a metal hand tightened its grip on his throat. It was laughing, Tony could hear it. 

" _Say goodbye to your son_!"

With a barely concealed yell of rage, Tony powered up his chest piece and fired a deadly bolt of energy out into the swarm. Robots flew in all directions, caught in its wake. The shot had been aimed precisely so that Cap wouldn't be caught in the blast radius. As the robots thinned, he rushed forwards and blasted the robotic hand that held Cap to bits. Its power cut, the hand spasmed and released the super soldier's neck. 

Tony was trying to be gentle with the man, he genuinely was. The only real problem was that the suit was built for combat and not so much for carrying a wounded soldier. So when it came time for Tony to finally get Cap out of there, it was much rougher than intended. 

Instead of lightly grabbing the man by his arms and lifting him into the air, he ended up smashing into Cap's left shoulder and pulling him roughly into a bridal lift. After almost dropping him twice, Tony was finally able to get the man secure in his arms. Limp and barely breathing, the soldier seemed oddly vulnerable. HIs arm was laced under Cap's shoulder blades, carefully avoiding the injured spot that lay several inches below. 

_Where is his shield?_

Tony would have liked to stay and find the damn thing, but the sound of metallic feet made him think twice about spending too much time there. With a high-pitched whine that made Tony's skin crawl, he kicked the suit into full gear, blasting into the sky.

He could hear several robots in pursuit.

Lights blazed all around him, flashing half-intelligible diagnostics, making his head pound. His suit was out of power, falling into the single-digits. Ordinarily, Jarvis would be there, lecturing him on every move, every possible plan of action... He headed back the way he had come (towards the kids), but farther to the south. There was no way he was going to let any of them get killed. Maybe he could lead the robots away from them, trick them into a pursuit and then backtrack.

Light laser fire pinged off his chest plate and Tony rolled over, using the suit to protect Cap. The man slumped forwards, coming out of his arms, and collided with Tony's chest. The unexpected weight threw him off course. Twenty feet later, Tony was able to coax the suit to respond to his command, pulling up from what had been near freefall. 

Then he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a flash of red color against dark buildings. It was James, waving his shield. His other arm was frantically gesturing downwards.  The meaning was clear: land. 

_So much for following instructions, you little bastard._

There wasn't any point in being angry, or even questioning the order. He dropped. The ground racing up to meet him, Tony landed in a long skid across the street. Metal met pavement with a horrendous screeching sound that made his ears want to shrivel up. 

"We'll cover you!" Called James, from the rooftop, just as an explosion ripped through the night air. Tony was surprised he could still hear all the noise. 

Then there was the matter of the small boy. More like the _previously_ small boy. Henry had literally grown to stand a whopping fifty feet tall. With one swipe, he took out a whole swarm of robots. Tony would have liked to about how he was able to do such a thing (not to mention watch the combat), to question the science behind turning into a fifty-foot giant, to... _ahh_... but there wasn't time. 

"Over here!" Torunn was running towards Tony, her sword clasped in her right hand; her left was pointing at a building some ten meters to their left, "he'll be safe in there until the robots go away."

Tony hesitated upon entering the building. He could already see several places where the structure had been compromised. Compared to all the buildings that he'd seen earlier, this one seemed to be in the best shape. Clearly, it had been a restaurant because of the large amount of booths and random tables. They lay around the room in a chaotic mess. Many of the large seats and tables had been lined up against the wall and stacked, blocking out most of the windows. Tablecloths and other objects lay over them, making it impossible to see inside through the windows. A small set of cushy chairs and blankets lay in the center, all circled around a decapitated robotic face. Choosing to ignore the head, Tony proceeded to enter the room. A small oil lamp sat in the center, illuminating the place with a soft orange glow. The whole thing seemed creepy. 

Despite the eeriness of the place, it was clearly their home! Their temporary home at least... 

He set Cap down on the blankets in a recovery position so that there would be as little contact with the wound on his back as possible. The man was in bad shape. His suit was in tatters, ripped from the day's extensive combat. Bruises were creating a collage of black and blue across his chest and shoulder, only visible where the robots had grabbed him and torn his suit away. Tony sighed and slowly opened his armor. He could patch up the super-soldier from the suit, but without Jarvis, he didn't feel comfortable with something so finely detailed. For all he could tell, he might accidentally decapitate someone and not notice it. 

 

When his skin met the air of the building, the first thing he registered was how cold it was. The air still had that "dry" feeling to it, but the temperature had definitely dropped. Tony was about to pull himself from the suit, when he felt his shoulder give a twinge of pain. Grunting, he twisted in order to see what was going on. 

Part of him wished he hadn't.

Where the laser had cut through the suit, both metal and skin had been burned away, leaving a mess of metallic droplets and blood behind. Gingerly, he pulled away from the suit but found that his shoulder was partially fused with the metal. The result was a shock that made his legs go numb. From what he could see of his shoulder, it was at least a third-degree burn. While held stationary, it gave off a numb feeling... but move it at all, rip any of the scabbing...

Steeling himself, Tony grimaced. He desperately wanted to just lie down and go to sleep. Fatigue pulled at his every muscle, starting with the sharp throbbing pain that raced through his upper body. 

 _NO_.

Without much thought, Tony wrenched himself out of the suit, letting his bodyweight carry him downwards. The pain was blinding. Whatever his right shoulder had done to heal was ripped clean off. It took all of his willpower not to scream. 

Hands shaking, Tony ripped a strip of his already-shredded shirt. The cotton was blood-soaked and covered with sweat, but it would still work fine. He could not bind his shoulder. Feeling it was one thing, binding it... that was a completely different story... at least for the moment. 

 _For now, I have to take care of Cap,_ he told himself, _stay awake! Concentrate!_

Slowly, the pile of makeshift bandages grew and the amount of shirt left shrank.

To Tony, it felt like each minute was an eternity. He was fighting a constant battle, resisting the overwhelming temptation to just pitch forwards and go to sleep. The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that falling asleep could mean never waking up again. 

Finally, the last strip of cloth fluttered to the ground. 

Explosions and sounds of combat sounded loudly within the building. Several times, there came a loud thundering sound, accompanied by a blinding flash. Tony was sure that it was Pym in giant form, or Torunn with her magical sword. Altogether, it was deafening and knocked plaster off of the ceiling (every time). 

 

Tony leaned forward and rested himself next to Cap, sitting cross-legged in front of where the wound was located. Working primarily with his uninjured side, he began to peel back at the other man's suit.

It was composed of three different layers: a small padded layer on the bottom (that cushioned the armored upper layers), a medium layer with kevlar and other protective materials, and a top layer of more padding; bedazzled with stars and stripes. Through the large burn mark in Cap's back, all three layers were visible, charred and revealed for anyone to see. 

After fumbling with the suit for several painful minutes, Tony began to see only one option left. He'd hoped to find that that the suit could be ripped in some way by bare hand; that the shots had weakened it enough to not have to use any kind of tool. Unfortunately, the suit was quite formidable and did not budge.

Tony sighed, _time for plan B_. 

The Iron man suit had fallen over after Tony had pulled himself from it, hitting the ground and cracking one of the floorboards. The shoulder piece, already compromised from the shot, had rolled away as it was jarred from its resting place. Now seeing its sharp, melted edge, Tony crawled after it. The several feet that it had rolled were marked with blood and random chunks of metal that had flown off in its wake. One of the pieces was from the flexible joint that held the chunk of armor on was especially deadly-looking. It had a wicked edge to it, having been burned at an angle. It was exactly what Tony needed. 

Grabbing the piece, Tony spun around and crawled back to the super-soldier. The piece was just longer than his fist and was lined with scorch-marks. The metal was sharp. So sharp -in fact- that it had already cut into his palm. Grunting, he hefted it and lowered it into the hole in Cap's armor. 

Carefully, he began cutting away at the padding on top of the suit. As predicted, that layer began to peel away almost immediately. In several short strokes, Tony cut away a long seam from Cap's neck down to his hip. Normally, he would have looked for a zipper -or some other way to get the suit off of the man- but given his state and the way that he didn't risk moving him, he'd decided it wasn't worth it. 

For whatever reason, he could picture his friends laughing at him. They would have made it into some dirty joke. Even though it was one of the worst times to think in such a way, that did not stop a small smile from creeping up Tony's face. Oh man, was he glad that no one was here to see this. They would never let him hear the end of it. 

The knife was painful and had drawn blood by the time that Tony finished with the kevlar layer. After removing the top part of Cap's armor (with the stars and stripes), a large puzzle of armor platings was revealed. He'd had to cut around each one of the plates, aiming for the softer mesh between.

Surrounded by the remnants of Cap's armor, Tony finally was able to get a look at the wound. He had cut away most of Cap's suit, leaving only the front intact. There were numerous places across the man's body that sported cuts and burns, but the main priority was the one on his back. For that sake, Tony had rolled him on to his face, propping the man's head with pieces of his torn armor (he had to breathe somehow). It could not be comfortable, but it had to be done. Tony had stripped off most of Cap's shirt, leaving his chest and lower body covered. 

The wound was deep and nauseatingly fresh. Blood seeped out of it like puddy, having thickened in the short time that it had been out in the open. Scratches and bruising surrounded it, contrasting with the normal skin around it.

Tony whistled, _damn that's got to hurt_. He had been numb for the last few minutes, just robotically cutting away at the other man's armor. Now, it felt as though he were waking up. The urgency he'd felt earlier was returning, mixed with the intense anxiety that he'd encountered after his arc reactor failure. 

 _Dammit, Tony! You've spent too much time here! He's Captain America! He'll survive without you!_  Tony's mind was at war with him, protesting his every decision, as he rose to his feet. Urging his mind to shut up, he refocused himself.  

 _Water_. _I must find water!_

Spotting an old sink behind the bar, he reached down and gripped a handful of rags. It was painstaking, taking one step at a time. His body was tired, pushed far beyond its limit. With every step, his knees shook just a little bit more.

_Just a few more steps._

He was a self-loathing bastard and he knew it. He didn't care about himself, what would become of his body... The Avengers, they'd already lost. Captain America was as good as dead...

 _So why am I doing this?_ Tony grabbed hold of a chair, only feet from the sink.

He stared at it blindly, not quite seeing it. 

A thunderous roar echoed around him, shaking more dust from the ceiling. For all Tony could care, it was just white noise.

 

 

_Why do I care? According to the kids, I'm already dead._

 

 

 

_That's right, you're dead to them._

 

 

_...dead to them..._

 

 

Knuckles clenched so tight that they were pale, he took another step forward. His throat was constricting, pulling at the muscles in his neck. 

 

_Air! No more air!_

 

_What's happening to me?_

 

As his arms cleared the edge of the sink, he reached up and turned the faucet. Water gushed out, filling the small basin with clean, pure water. Shaking hands cupped to hold the water...

 

Surprised at its cold touch, Tony backed up. _The water was freezing!_ His foot caught on something in the floor and he crashed to the floor. Without meaning to, he stuck out his right arm to break his fall. The resulting impact made him yell in agony.

 

Spitting a stream of curses, he sat there in shock. The sink, still running, seemed tall and intimidating from where he sat on the floor. 

_You idiot!_

His head was spinning, the world turning around him, just like outer space...  Panicking, he thrashed for a moment, only stopping when his hands met a solid surface. 

 

_The wormhole._

 

_Space._

 

_The cold..._

 

 

 

 

_Pain?_

 

Something was grounding him in reality, something different. When he'd been up in the wormhole, there had been _no pain_. There hadn't been any robots in outer space. 

 

_No pain!_

 

Reality crashed back down upon his tired mind, sweeping away the stars and replacing it with a dim, flickering light. It was the light of the small oil lamp, casting its shadows on the wooden wall of the restaurant.

 

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pulled himself back up, using the stool next to him. His shoulder was, for the millionth time that day, blazing with a feverish pain.

 

"What the hell," he muttered, resting against the bar. He ran his hand over his face, "what's wrong with me?" 

 

_You can't blank out like that!_

 

His shoulder protesting, Tony splashed water up on his face. 

 

"This is new. Normally, I would hate myself," he thought out loud, "I don't feel anything..."

 

The water splashed against his skin, shocking his nerves with its piercing feeling. He thrust the rags under the water. The cotton absorbed the water like a sponge, growing heavy in his hand.  

Satisfied, Tony sucked in his breath, knowing what was the next logical maneuver. He set the rags down on the rim of the basin and pulled on from the stack. From there, he sank down to the floor, propping himself between the legs of the stool. It was a solid place where he was well supported and secure. The stool was against the side of the bar, so scooting backward was out of the question. The single rag was a ball in his left hand, clenched loosely as to not squeeze out all of the water. 

 

_Breathe, isn't what they say? Just keep breathin'?_

 

Then he plunged the rag into his shoulder. 

The initial reaction was not the pain, but the coldness. Water on third-degree burns was hell. It was similar to when you wake up in the morning with your feet asleep. It's that same painful tingling that comes, but not so deep inside of your body and hand-in-hand with an excruciating burning feeling. 

Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he moved the cloth in slow, rhythmic circles. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

 

 _Breathe_. 

 

His breath hissed from between clenched teeth. 

 

_It'll be over soon._

 

Opening his eyes once more, he turned his head slowly. The wound had cleared of most of the metal particles, which now clung to the rag like burrs. Most of the excess blood had cleared as well, leaving the horrifying burn in clear view. With shaking hands, Tony folded the rag over. There were still several metal slivers left in his shoulder, one of which was far from small. 

A piece of his suit had embedded itself just in front of his arm, below his collarbone. 

 

_No way am I getting that out on my own._

 

For several more minutes, Tony cleaned what he could. Finally, he let his arm fall to the floor, the rag tumbling away. Metal chips clattered on the wood flooring.

He stayed in that position for what felt like a long time, letting his muscles relax for the first time in what felt like ages. 

 

The explosions had given way to what sounded like distant gunfire. A loud clattering echoed across the room, making him spin around too fast. Feeling mildly nauseous, Tony leaned out from behind the bar, squinting. Out of the darkness, he could make out a metallic figure lying in the doorway. 

The door had come unlatched and hung open. A "dead" robot lay there, decapitated and in a mess of wiring. Its rifle had landed nearby, still intact. 

 

 _Coward. I'm a damn coward for letting those kids fight for me._  

 

Tony was angry, not many things could piss him off like this. He had almost forgotten about the battle outside in all of his selfishness. Cap was the goal. Protect the Captain: _not_ him and his little emotions. There were no space aliens, no people laughing at him, and he was pretty sure that there was still oxygen in the air. 

 

Another moment passed before Tony could muster the strength to get back to his feet. This time, he didn't need the stool. 

He staggered back across the room, his left arm held at an awkward angle, pushing himself forwards. In his right, he clutched the bandages. 

 

_I need to get out there. I need to get out there now!_

 

Last time he had lost to the robots.

 

He would not lose again.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -Clint/Natasha_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> During the time between this and the upcoming chapter (titled: Fathers & Sons), I'm planning to go through all my previous chapters and beef them up a bit. When I was writing this, I was really taken off guard at how much I could improve between drafts... 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! <3
> 
> I am VERY confused as to why I have 2 sets of notes at the bottom of each chapter... like what? I never noticed it until now. Anyone have an explanation? I mean it could be something, but I'm also still new to AO3. (Answered)
> 
> Ty!


	9. Isolated (3)-A Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has found Natasha, now it is up to him and Dr. Strange to make sure that she is ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really tried to get the characterization right in this chapter, let me know if there is anything that I could've done better!

Clint's mind was full of new things. To anyone close, he would have never admitted it, but he was pretty overwhelmed. Maybe it was meeting everyone on such a short notice, or possibly the way that everyone saw him as a hero... All those faces staring at him with admiration and hope. It was unnerving. He wasn't a hero, not one that he thought of.

 

_Captain America was a hero. I always looked up to him._

 

Reaching up towards the ceiling, Clint found himself looking at his hands.

 

_How much blood is there? How much more will there be on my hands before this is over?_

 

There came a loud rapping sound against the door which made him jump. Grumbling, Clint snapped into a sitting position.

 

"Hawkeye!" Came a call from the other side of the door. Whoever it was had a high voice, Clint guessed Peter.

 

"Dr. Strange just came in a few minutes ago, he said that he thinks someone just came out of a time portal! We're assembling a team."

Clint was already on his feet, reaching for his uniform -freshly cleaned and repaired- that lay on the couch. In a record time, he dressed and pulled on his goggles. Jarvis had been so kind as to fabricate him a new bow and arrows, pulling some old designs and materials that Stark had stockpiled (all those years ago).

The team had assembled in the hangar, standing in a semi-circle around Dr. Strange. As Clint rushed in, his boots thundering against the floor, he was finally able to see what the man looked like. Strange was a man of medium height and build. He sported a goatee and short brown hair. Blue eyes blazed from intense eyes. The man was dressed in a long cloak with a high collar. Clint would have easily been to identify that he was a magic-user, just by the clothes.

"I see that Hawkeye has finally decided to join us," said Captain Marvel dryly. She was dressed in full uniform, her hands on her hips in a typical about-time-you-got-here-you-idiot pose. Clint would have cracked a joke about the look... if he didn't know that she'd kill him for it. Spider-man, who had ran in right after Clint, choked.

"I only got to telling him a few minutes ago!" The kid yelped.

Marvel grunted a response.

Ant-man and Wasp were there too, watching the exchange with wide eyes. Clint looked around for Logan and Falcon, but saw that they were absent.

"AIM attacked a military base a few hours ago," said Captain Marvel explained, "we had to send a small team over there. We know that MODOK is locked up, but there could be a chance that AIM is creating a plot to break him out. After all, two of the people we did capture managed to escape with the help of Red Skull and his men."

Seeing Clint's disbelieving face, she added, "there were two different vehicles that were used. Dr. Doom and Emma Frost were in the one that was targeted. Black Panther was on the scene along with Storm, Cyclops, and SHIELD officers. They managed to contain Frost, but Dr. Doom was able to slip out. We don't think he's left New York though."

Dr. Strange cleared his throat and everyone turned back to face him.

"I was able to track Doom to an apartment that is adjacent to where you landed," he gestured at Clint, "it looked as though he was expecting something. At first, I thought it might have been a coincidence, but then I saw the readings. Dr. Selvig has been developing technology to be able to read when Asgardians come and go from Earth. I borrowed a few tricks from this and found that it matched the readings from when I last talked with them about the events two years ago. It's the same energy signature."

Captain Marvel, having heard this already, walked up the ramp of the Quinjet and took her place at the helm. Slowly, the rest of the team followed, all of them listening carefully to Strange's words.

"Whatever, or _whoever_ , is causing these anomalies is the same force that sent you through time, Clint. The readings are _identical_. I can't help thinking that Dr. Doom must know a lot about this as well, after all, he was the person that brought me to the spot."

The Quinjet roared out of the mansion, speeding across the New York skyline. The sun was setting and it cast its orange glow into the air. Clint watched out the window, hope sparking inside him.

 

_Someone is coming. Whoever it is... I'm not alone anymore!_

 

The sky was clear, leading on a beautiful sunset. This all changed as they approached their destination.

 

"What the hell?" Came Captain Marvel's voice from the helm, "it's clouding over... no. That's fog."

Green flashes of light emanated from the growing haze below. Clint was painfully reminded of the time when he had appeared on that rooftop. He wondered if a similar thing had happened to him.

The Quinjet landed on a nearby rooftop and they all disembarked. The haze was dispersing, leaving only the destruction from the previous night.

"There!" Shouted Wasp, in her small form, buzzing above their heads. She was pointing to the apartment building across from the fire escape.

Clint took off at full speed, crossing the apartment in a matter of seconds, Dr. Strange and Captain Marvel hard on his heels.

 

The glass to the window that she'd been pointing to was shattered. But that was not why she had pointed it out. There was a figure there, illuminated in the flashlight that Marvel was carrying.

"Clint!" Came a weak cry from within the room. 

 

_Natasha!_

 

With a strangled gasp, Captain Marvel stopped dead in her tracks. Gaping at the super-spy. Clint would have laughed, this was the most emotional reaction he'd seen from her so far. Clint barreled forwards, closely followed by Dr. Strange who switched to gliding through the air, as they jumped the gap between buildings.

Natasha looked up at them with a glazed look. Her face was covered in grime and flecks of blood. As Clint approached her, he realized that she was injured. One hand was tightly wrapped around her midsection, stemming a slow flow of blood that oozed from a spot around her hip. The other hand was clutching something... chills ran down his spine as he saw it.

"Is that...?" Dr. Strange asked, peering over Clint's shoulder.

Clint grinned, in spite of everything, "yeah. That's Captain America's shield all right." He knelt down looked into Nat's eyes. What he saw there, was something he had never seen on her face before.

 

Uncertainty.

 

"You're real, right?" She whispered to him, her voice cracking from the strain.

"I'm real," he said back softly.

 

Dr. Strange, sensing that she was at the end of her stamina, pulled an emergency stretcher from the Quinjet. They had tried to see if she could walk, but upon reaching a vertical position, Natasha had collapsed. Until then, she had insisted that she was fine and brushed off their concerns. After she almost took a face full of concrete, she wasn't so hesitant in accepting their aid.

Spider-man, Captain Marvel, Wasp, and Ant-man had all separated and were attempting to track down the ever-elusive Dr. Doom. Clint had thought -initially- that it was a bit of a risk, to all disperse in such a way, but soon realized that it was not so bad. He had been given an earpiece similar to the one that Stark had given him right before the battle against the Chitauri. The new ones, however, were slightly more updated. They allowed for any one of them to maintain an open channel without much interference at all. 

Together, Clint and Dr. Strange lifted Natasha onto the stretcher. Clint asked about how they were going to get her to the hospital, but Strange cut him off.

"That probably won't be the best idea, there is a medical facility in the mansion."

"Alright!" Said Clint, attempting to sound more cheerful. He strode to one end of the stretcher and began to push it towards the window. It would be difficult to get it onto the fire escape, but they would manage.

Dr. Strange cleared his throat, "perhaps it would be easier this way." 

In one slow movement, he knelt down and made a hand gesture, then dragged his fingers through the air in a large circular motion. Clint's eyes widened as he saw something that looked like fireworks/sparklers, following the finger, creating a large circular portal in the air. Through it, Clint could see a sterile room with a hospital bed in one corner, and a metal table in the other.

"What the-"

"-through here," said Strange, gesturing to the portal, "it will be faster than taking the Quinjet."

Together, they pulled the stretcher through the portal.

 

* * *

 

 

Natasha woke in a cushy bed, surrounded by pillows and covered by a soft blanket. Pain radiated from her hip, but it was a different pain from earlier. Now it was a dull pain and not the sharp burning sensation that she'd felt while fighting Dr. Doom.

 

 _Clint_!

 

Her eyes flew open. She was lying in the bed of some kind of medical facility. There were various medical supplies all around her, machines, scanners, etc. Against the wall to her right was a long countertop. A man sat on a stool, dressed in a long cloak, studying something under a microscope and taking notes on a small notepad next to him. Clint sat in the corner, slumped against the wall, fast asleep. She studied his face. He was so peaceful, relaxed, as though the weight of the world was off of his shoulders.

There was a soft sound of shoes hitting tile floor, and a shadow fell over Natasha's face. She looked up to see the man in the cloak leaning over her, checking the monitors that were located above her head. When he saw that she was awake, he gave her a smile.

 

_Doctor Stephan Strange, on file at SHEILD for being in a severe car accident then disappearing off the books for an extended time. Rumor had it that he was involved in some incident in Hong Kong..._

 

"How are you feeling?" The man asked, his eyes meeting hers. He reminded her of Tony in a way. He had the same goatee and hair. But his face seemed was kinder, with more emotion showing through.

 

Natasha gave him a half-smile back, "I've been better."

"With Jarvis's help, we were able to pull the toxin that you were shot with out of your system. My guess is that whatever shot you had assumed that you wouldn't reach medical help for several hours. The virus did not have time to take a hold on your system, which was very lucky on your part."

 

Natasha remembered the bolt of energy searing through her skin, then the darkness that followed as she fell through the rift.

 

_There was something in that... I hadn't realized... it was like a poison dart._

 

"What was it?" She asked, her eyes falling.

"Well," Strange crossed the room, grabbing a vial from the countertop, "there were traces of this foreign substance in your blood, but most of it was concentrated around the wound."

 

While the man was speaking, Natasha pulled the blanket up to peer at her hip. Relief surged through her as she saw that she was in her undershirt and light pants that she wore under her suit. It hadn't been her number-one worry, being undressed by a stranger in this condition, but still... She eyed the bandage around her hip. A part of her really wanted to see what the wound looked like, but she knew that removing the dressings could make it bleed again.

"I wouldn't touch that," came Strange's voice from next to her, "it wasn't the worst wound I've ever seen, but it's still nasty. It'll take at least a few weeks to completely heal."

 

Natasha nodded, signifying that she'd heard him. She turned her head to see what he was holding.

 

In his hand was the glass vial, filled with a strange green substance. Her stomach twisted at the sight, she had seen that before.

"Oh god..." She whispered, "can I see that for a moment."

Wordlessly, he handed her the vial. As her fingers touched the glass, chills ran up her skin.

 

 _Whatever this is, whatever it does to people... it was killing Tony. No, it killed him... if the laser didn't kill him, this would have._  

 "We extracted the vast majority of the venom from the wound. That vial contains the more concentrated bit."

There was a silence for several minutes. Strange was watching her intently, an expression that she, herself had used on many occasions while studying others. The quiet was only broken when Clint let out a soft snort and blinked, rising from his slumber. Seeing her awake, he shot to his feet.

 

"Nat!" He cried, rushing to stand next to Strange.

Natasha sighed and shook her head in wonder. After all she'd been through, it was surreal to think that she was back. Something was different though, something was... _off_ about their situation. She knew that she should be resting, taking some time to heal, but somehow, the thought made her want to hit something very hard.

"Clint, what's going on?" She asked, "were you sent through a portal too? Where are we?"

 

Dr. Strange and Clint both exchanged looks, "perhaps I should go get Mr. Lang and Ms. Danvers," said Strange, "they can explain it better than we can. I will also have him bring the shield, he was studying it in his lab."

Clint nodded and rolled over the stool that Strange had been sitting on. Once the man left the room, he sat down and faced her, nearly at eye level now.

"Nat, what happened? The last thing I remember before getting here was talking to you and Captain America in the penthouse. Where did you go?"

"I ended up in a war zone, Steve was there too. Clint, I think it was the future. It had to have been. Steve and I were in this alleyway, it was strange though... We landed in a crater. Neither of us are heavy enough to make a crater like that. It had some metal shards in it too."

"Stark," Clint breathed, understanding what she was implying, "you think he survived!"

Natasha nodded, "I can go into detail later, but I _know_ it."

Clint's brow wrinkled in concentration, "were you awake for the portal stuff? I know I was out cold the whole time. I just woke up on the rooftop. That's all I remember. That and a flash of-"

"-green light," Natasha finished for him, "I was awake ... for a part of it anyway. I remember falling."

 

A memory sparked in the back of her mind. There had been green light all around her, flashing like a strobe. Steve had been with her, yelling at her to stay awake. Something had been flying with them... something else. A shape... no... a person. White light had sparked nearby... As the scene began to unfold in her head, a sharp pain exploded behind her eyes. Unwilling to let go of the image quite yet, she squeezed her eyes shut and focused harder.

Clint's hand came down on her shoulder, a comforting feeling.

 

Darkness opened up in front of her.

 

_Screaming... a large person in front of her, a hand gripping her right arm._

 

 _Steve_.

 

_Over his shoulder...._

 

_Red, a reflection off of-_

 

"Metal..." Natasha whispered, "it's _him_! He was there!"

"Who?" Came Clint's voice from far away, " _who_?"

 

_A lifeless body falling, falling through an opening in the darkness. Steve yelling, dragging her after him, falling through the same rift._

 

...

 

_Impact, Natasha landing on top of Steve, their wonder at the new surroundings._

 

Natasha's eyes flew open.

"Clint we were there! There were three of us! We-" She hadn't realized that she was shouting until the door burst open to let in three people.

"Sorry if we're interrupting something!" Said Strange holding up his hand in a gesture of peace.

Clint shook his head, "you're fine. Nat, you should tell everyone this."

Dr. Strange pulled up two chairs, as a tall blond-haired woman pulled over the seat that Clint had been sitting in (in the corner), Natasha guessed that she was Captain Marvel. The other man had to be Scott, for he held the shield in this arms.

They all sat in a semicircle in front of Natasha, looking at her expectantly. The whole thing reminded her of an interrogation.

"I'm Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel. Just call me Carol," said the woman, holding out her hand to Natasha. Nat looked back at the woman, hesitant to reveal her real name. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Clint nod.

She took Carol's hand and shook it, "Natasha Romanov."

Carol waved her hand towards Scott and Strange in turn, "as you know, this is Dr. Stephan Strange and Scott Lang, aka Ant-man."

"Yes, I've met them," said Natasha nodding.

"Well then, let's get started!" Scott said, smiling, he ran his hand over the shield, "I never thought that I'd get to see this in person..."

Strange met Natasha's eyes, his were full of concern, "If this ever gets too difficult for you, you have to tell us. We don't want to stress or tire you out so soon after appearing here."

Natasha nodded, doubting that she'd ever have to use that card.

"My apologies for intruding so soon," said Carol, her intense eyes fixed on the wall behind Natasha's face, "but there has been an increase in anomalies in the last two days, and we think that they could be linked. Clint only got here day before yesterday. It's highly unlikely that the reason you're here is purely circumstantial. We need to know as much as we can to be able to help prevent more incidents like what happened after New York."

"I understand," replied Natasha, remembering several different occasions where she'd been in a similar position.

"Long story short, you're in the Avenger's mansion. It's been two years since you disappeared, and we had no idea of knowing what had happened to you and your team until several months ago." Said Scott, using his hands to help emphasize his words, "there were many different theories about what could have happened, but none of us knew for sure until scientists found this. Clint, you still have your tablet on you?"

Clint nodded and pulled a small tablet from his pocket, he hesitated before putting it in Natasha's lap.

"It might be hard for you to read..." he said, his voice trailing off.

With slightly shaking fingers, Natasha read the article. Her mind went blank with shock as she saw the picture.

 

_Bruce. What happened to you?_

 

Clint read her expression and bowed his head, "I know."

Carol, Strange, and Scott all looked at them, sadness and understanding etched on their faces. Scott shifted the shield in his hands and looked down at it, his reflection a blur in its painted surface.

Inside her mind, Natasha was waging a war. A part of her wanted to throw the tablet across the room, yet another part of her wanted to break down in tears. All of it, of course, was contained within her "mask". Keeping her expression even, she pulled her mind into order, crushing the emotions into a deep corner of her mind.

"I see," she said, "time travel. That's the final proof."

Scott proceeded to tell her the whole story, starting with their disappearance in New York, through Clint's experience on the rooftop.

"We think that there might be a pattern forming," he finished, "but first we'd like to hear your half of the story. Clint's is slightly more simple. It seems clear that this was your _second_ stop, right?"

Natasha nodded, watching everyone's blank faces.

"Well..." she sighed, "might as well tell it from the beginning."

She handed the tablet back to Clint and shifted into a more comfortable position.

 

"The first thing I remember was falling out of the portal. I was with Steve-"

"Rodgers?" Asked Carol, gaping.

Natasha smiled at the woman's shock, "yes, I was with him. We landed in some kind of alleyway. One thing I noticed was that there was a crater there," she threw a glance at Clint, "we think that it might have been Stark. There were a few metal fragments that could have come from his suit. Also, when we fell, we didn't have the momentum to create such an indentation in the ground. My guess is that he fell from somewhere up in the sky."

Scott hummed thoughtfully, "so whadya' know, Stark's still alive. That's one that I haven't heard in a while. Everyone thought he was dead."

 

"Please, continue," said Carol, leaning forwards onto her elbows, "I want to hear this."

 

"It was a war zone, explosions left and right," Natasha said, "it was like being back in New York with the Chitauri soldiers. Then... we saw him."

 

 _Tony_.

 

Memories flooded her mind and her voice caught.

 

"It was Stark, but older, weaker. He was running away... passed the alleyway we landed in... when he-"

 

Her voice failed.

 

"-he..."

 

_Why was this bothering her so much? She'd watched so many deaths, caused even more of them. Why was this death haunting her so? Was it how old the man had become? Was it seeing someone strong, so weak? So aged? What was wrong with her?_

 

The room was silent, everyone watching her.

"There were soldiers out in the road, they were wearing some uniform that I've never seen before. It was this blue and yellow suit. They had these laser rifles and they... they shot Stark right through the chest."

 

_Did they know about the arc reactor? Did they know about Afghanistan? Did they..._

 

Natasha motioned to a place right in the center of her chest.

"Right there."

 

She stopped for a bit, bowing her head, the scene replaying itself in her head. The room silently followed her, all of them knowing what happened next.

 

_Tony, lying on his back in her arms, his lips forming the words, "Don't cry."_

 

_Natasha peeling back the wrappings on his midsection, revealing the horrible wound to the sky._

 

_Her shock._

 

_The kids gathering around them, all of them watching their friend -most likely their mentor and guardian- die in front of them._

 

_"James, I guess you finally did it... you've finally... met your parents."_

 

She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her forehead.

 

"He was a dead man walking," she whispered, so softly that Carol and Dr. Strange had to lean forwards in order to understand her, "he was shot with the same laser that I was, probably three or four days prior. The toxin was already in his bloodstream. The shot from the soldiers hit him right in the arc reactor...There was no coming back from that..."

Everyone except Clint looked confused at her words. Before joining the Avengers, they had all had to read about one another. The arc reactor had been one of the facts listed under Tony Stark's name. Clint knew what she was talking about.

"Alright, I'll bite," said Carol, "what's an arc reactor? We've not received much information from SHIELD since New York. Not of that kind, anyway..."

 

Thankfully, Clint stepped in to take the question. Emotions beginning to rise once more, Natasha took the time to collect herself again. This time, she found it more difficult to suppress the rising grief.

 

_Stop it, you're an assassin, remember that... no feelings, keep it cool...._

 

"The arc reactor was a machine that Stark invented to keep shrapnel out of his heart," the archer stated, "a missile went off while he was in Afghanistan, apparently he was close by it and got shrapnel inside of his chest," he looked at Natasha, as if asking if he was right.

 

All she could do was nod.

 

"He was shot right there, when I got to him I looked at the wound. There were kids there too, people that looked like they were ours..." She went on to describe the kids.

 

Carol's eyes widened, "no way..."

 

Clint wore an expression of surprise as well. Both Scott and Strange were impassive, not revealing anything in their expressions, however deeply Natasha tried to look.

 

"After Tony died... a woman appeared. She was dressed in green. My guess is that she's Asgardian. Her speech pattern matched Thor's. _Enchantress_ is what she called herself. Whatever the toxin is, she's the one at the center of it. She made fun of us then we attacked, like we were toying with her. Steve threw his shield and I ended up grabbing hold of it. I was too slow to try and get it back to him though... She sent him into a portal almost immediately after I got to it. Then the next thing I knew, I was falling again and I landed on the rooftop."

"And Dr. Doom was waiting for you," stated Scott flatly, "right?"

"Yes," Natasha replied.

Carol put her face in her hands, when she finally spoke, her voice was muffled, "we searched for Doom, it was hours of scouring the streets. There were four of us for the first hour, then Panther and Logan joined. We looked _everywhere_ and found nothing. Doom... he knows _something_ and he's going to act on it unless we don't capture him and find out first. But then there's the question of whether he's working alone..."

"The chances of us capturing him are low," said Scott, looking at his hands, "and he's a tough one, Doom is. He won't spill unless he knows it'll hurt us, or benefit him in some way. He's also a mastermind, which makes things even more difficult. He's known for his deception, tactics, you get it."

 

_That follows what I've read in the database._

 

Clint exchanged a look with Natasha.

"What now?" He asked, looking at the top of Captain Marvel's head, "what will we do?"

"We have some research to do," she replied, slowly straightening up, "for now, rest. Because when you're ready... I intend for you to become a part of us. A part of this team until we can get you home."

 

The thought ran through Natasha's head for a long time after they left her.

 

_I will be an Avenger again..._

 

But something was holding her back. It was that small doubt in the back of her mind. She thought about it for a minute before settling with the idea.

 

_Captain Marvel, a leader that is prepared to play with fire._

 

_You put us on the Avengers... and we become targets... or rather, we become the bait._

 

Natasha smiled. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -Steve_


	10. Twisted(1)-Fathers & Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rodgers wakes up in the middle of a warzone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This is the first in a pair of chapters in Steve's perspective. The original chapter ended up being too long... should be back on normal schedule after this!_
> 
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> _~Note: the next chapter will come within a week though. The 2-part chapters are shorter due to them technically being "halves" of one chapter!_

Steve came round in semi-darkness. It took a few seconds for him to understand what was going on.

 _I mean, how often do you wake up face down in something that felt like a sack of potatoes?_  

Groaning, he tried to sit up. Pain lanced through him, sending him back to the floor. His eyes were unfocused, foggy. He could not see anything. 

Noise pounded his ears.

It was loud, very loud. 

 

_Gunfire?_

 

Then reality came crashing back. This was no longer his time, possibly even his Earth. Staying down on the makeshift bed suddenly felt very appealing. He lay there for a while, just letting it all sink in, listening to the explosions all around him. Now and then, the ground would shake. 

 

_It had been the robots, it must have been. They've captured me. They have me in their base..._

 

_But then why am I alive? That robot was going to snap my neck. He could have easily done it... Any one of them could have..._

  

Another explosion shook the ground, more powerful than the previous ones. It was followed by a yell.

 

A _very_ familiar yell. 

 

"Get back, you bastards, get away from him!"

 

More gunfire. 

 

Eyes flying open, Steve looked over towards the voice. He cursed inwardly, his vision was still fogged up. Everything farther than three or four feet was still a haze. In the attempt to see what was going on, Steve had forced his neck into an awkward position, causing it to cramp horribly after a few seconds. He flopped back to the ground, panting. It was pointless to try and see what was happening. His eyes wouldn't even work properly. 

After a short break, he changed tactics, painfully aware of the chaos still surrounding him. After carefully testing his muscles, Steve made an attempt to roll over. In a quick jerk, he rolled onto his side. Instantly, his body was on fire. It was as though needles had been stuck into every pore in his skin. The effort to not cry out was enormous and he came close to blacking out. Shifting his weight slightly, he eased himself back down to the ground, coming to rest on his back with care. Upon completion of the task, he sighed, sweat dripping down his forehead. 

 _Simple_ , he told himself. 

His body disagreed. 

 

It was now clear that he was not a prisoner. He could feel bandaging around his midsection and his hands. Both were places where the robots had clawed at him.

Raising his head, Steve looked down. His shoulder throbbed, complaining at the movement. All his injuries had been patched, sporting dark bandages. Steve found it interesting. He saw the rips and tears on the fabric. Clearly, it was not standard medical issue, but rather the remnants of some cloth. 

 

Blinking crazily, Steve's vision steadily improved. This gave him a slight headache but he persisted. It was helping his vision, and being able to see was important. 

Soon, everything cleared.

 

Dawn was breaking, the sun barely peeking over the buildings beyond the doorway. The large skyline was dotted with smoke, blotting out some of the orange rays that bathed the area. 

Leaning on his elbows, Steve got enough leverage to roll onto his side. He landed with a grunt, his bruised ribs crying out in pain. Now he could face the doorway with only a fraction of the effort. 

 

Nearby, slumped against the wall, rested a small kid that looked about the age of twelve. Several feet to the boy's left was a pile of crates. Crouched behind them sat someone else.

The person in the doorway was in the sun and Steve had to squint to make out any detail. He was able to discern that the man was armed, before his head began swimming with fatigue. The kid, however, was in plain view, shadowed by the wall that he rested against.

Looking around, Steve noticed several strange things that he'd not seen earlier. He was in the center of the room, hidden by both walls and a large barricade of furniture. Compared to him, the two others were very exposed. That meant that the attack had either started quite recently, or someone had deliberately stuck him into a more sheltered location. Judging by the flimsy barricade, he was more tempted to go with a combination of the two. The theory was only backed even more by the presence of the boy.

Directing his attention back to the front of the room, Steve focused on the kid.

He wore a yellow jumpsuit and appeared unconscious. The boy's dark hair was long and fell over his face, masking his features. Cuts and bruises lined (what was visible of) his jaw. More scrapes lined his arms barely concealed by the tears that had formed in his jumpsuit.  Several of them looked deep and Steve winced at trying to picture how they were obtained in the first place. Being on the field at that age was rough...

 

 

The man was yelling something out the door, gesturing with his left arm as if trying to make someone move away from something. After several seconds of desperate waving, he leveled a rifle at the skyline and fired. Something was strange though... he was holding the rifle wrong, shooting from his left side. Steve had seen enough combat to know that he wasn't comfortable with it, his hand was too shaky on the trigger, his arm too stiff and unrelaxed. 

Steve was reminded of his days fighting in the war. His mind still foggy, he saw Bucky. 

 _It can't be Bucky though..._ old wounds in Steve's mind awakened.

 _Bucky is dead..._  

 

After firing about five shots, the man ducked down to the ground. Bullets peppered the floor around him, chewing up the already battered wood panels. Dust and smoke rose where the flooring had been ruined. 

Now out of the direct sunlight, Steve saw the man's face.  

 

_Tony?_

 

There was a definite smile playing around Tony's face as the man saw Steve. 

"Hey Cap! How are you feeling?" He called over all of the wreckage, "nice to see that you're not dead!"

 

Somehow Steve could resist grinning back at the man. After all, he'd seen the guy disappear through a wormhole, shot in the chest, and _die_ right before his eyes. It was a relief to see that the man was even alive.

Upon further inspection, Steve began noticing some things about Tony that he hadn't caught at first. Mostly, it was that the man was in rough shape. He wore only pants and a small blanket for clothing. The blanket was wrapped around his shoulders like a rain poncho, covering most of his upper body. What it did not conceal were the many small cuts and bruises that covered his skin. His hair was wild, sticking up in places and falling into his face. Whatever had hurt the man's arm or shoulder was hidden from view.

Similar dark bandages (to Steve's) formed a latticework over his skin, which could be seen between the folds of the blanket.

Worry sparked inside of Steve as he watched the man.

 

_Where is the armor?_

 

As if he could read his mind, Tony jabbed his finger at a spot about ten feet behind Steve's head. Struggling to turn, Steve took a good look at the suit... or, more correctly, what was left of the suit. 

The space where the laser had hit him was hot, as though burning with a fever. As Steve sat up, the spot radiated pain. He pushed the discomfort aside, mentally steeled himself. He would never have admitted it to anyone, but he was feeling very weak. Upon moving, his limbs had begun to throb from the severe bruising the robots had left him. That wasn't even counting the giant hole in his back.

As Steve struggled, he could feel Tony's eyes on him. He didn't want the pity and felt shame building inside of his chest as he flailed about. Finally, he was able to drag himself into a neutral position, a position where he could see both the doorway and the place where the suit was resting. 

The armor was lying in the corner beneath a restaurant booth. It was a horrible mess. Where smooth plating used to be, there were scorch marks and large rips in the armor. It looked like an entire chunk of the right shoulder was missing as well, creating a lopsided image. Seeing the suit like this somehow seemed wrong, as if it had been violated. Clearly, Tony had taken shots for Steve. There was no diving headlong into an army of robots without suffering the consequences. Guilt swept through him. 

 

_Only a matter of hours ago, I was holding a piece of that armor, believing that Tony was dead... And then he was there, rescuing me. Even after all the horrible things I said._

 

Gunshots echoed in the distance and bullets peppered the ground near Tony's feet again. Cursing, the man ducked down again and pressed his back against the barrier. He raised the gun and eyed what looked like its power source. Clearly satisfied with the result, he brought it back down. As soon as the fire ceased, Tony spun, resting the barrel of the gun on the crate nearest him. Aiming carefully, he fired. Something very large and heavy fell to the ground outside. Dust rained down from the ceiling of the building as the ground trembled with the impact.   

Tony punched the air. 

 

With a deafening crash, something dark and metallic dropped from above them,  landing a few feet from the doorway. Glowing red eyes blazed from (artificial) rectangular slits. 

The robot raised its arm aimed a laser at the back of Tony's head. 

Without thinking, Steve lurched forwards, crying out a warning. He needed to help! To warn his friend! Tired limbs collapsed forward and he landed hard. Struggling to stay conscious, he looked up from the floor at the scene unfolding before him. His body spasmed from the sudden movement, leaving him helpless on the floor. He could only watch. 

Tony had spotted the robot only a few milliseconds after Steve. In one swift moment, he dove forwards, coming to a shaky crouch between the machine and the kid on the floor.

And not a moment too soon. 

Just as Tony was raising his gun, the robot fired. Using the weapon as a shield, the man blocked the shot, reeling from the blast. 

Lowering its arm, the robot advanced, its metallic footfalls loud against the old wood. 

Steve knew what was happening, he had been on the receiving end of something similar too many times to _not_ recognize it. 

 

_The robots want Tony alive! They would have shot him by now..._

 

Taking full advantage of the robot's hesitation, Tony lashed out, swinging the gun like a sword. Steve noticed that he favored his right shoulder. Like his shooting, he was clearly not comfortable with the side, for there was clearly less power in the blow than usual. 

 

_Maybe he got shot or something? Hurt in some way? Broken?_

 

 

Steve gritted his teeth and began to slide himself forwards, closer to the combat. He was about three or four feet when he came upon an idea and changed course. On one hand, he could go and get his ass handed to him by a robot, but on the other...

Every muscle in his body was screaming for him to stop. He could feel wet against the bandages on his back. 

_Not good._

_But it doesn't matter._

 

Their lives depended on whether the Iron Man suit had any power left. 

 

Meanwhile, the fight was still going on in full swing. The robot had aimed several punches at the man, but the other dodged. His movements were becoming more labored, only adding to Steve's doubts. Finally, Tony aimed a blow at the robot's face (gun still being used as a sword). As the weapon came whizzing towards its metallic face, the bot ducked underneath it, lunging forwards. In one fluid motion, Tony was suspended in the air, his neck in the grasp of a large, metallic claw. 

 

Steve had looked up just in time to see the exchange and let out a yell. For the last few minutes, he'd been busy with the suit. The Iron Man suit, it turned out, wasn't in that bad shape. Granted, there were a few holes and scratches, but it was mostly intact. What had really caught Steve's eye was the large circular burn on the right shoulder. Choosing to ignore how the metal had been melted mangled beyond repair, he busied himself with pulling apart the attachments to the gauntlet. Fortunately, the suit was opened up and not closed like when a person was inside. 

He was no genius like Tony, but he was smart enough to figure out some things. 

 

_And if this works..._

 

The gauntlet was heavy but just light enough for Steve in his weakened state. Aiming carefully, he raised it to eye level. 

 

Tony writhed in the robot's arms, his knuckles white as his hands clasped thick, metallic wrists. His face was slowly turning a deep purple. 

As Steve aimed the device, Tony must have seen him as he froze completely. The blanket that had been tied around his shoulders slipped off of him and fluttered to the floor. 

Praying that he would not be accidentally beheading his friend, Steve attempted to fire. He'd seen Tony do it a dozen times. 

He splayed his fingers.

 

Nothing happened. 

 

Tony's head rolled back and the robot began dragging him towards the door.

 

_No! If they take him like that he'll be alive... barely! He needs my help! Come on! I have to make this work!_

 

_WORK! Come on you damn thing!_

 

Contorting his hand and wrist into all sorts of positions, Steve uttered a stream of curses. _Nothing_ seemed to be working! It was unlike him to say so much vulgar language at one time, but somehow the situation seemed appropriate. 

 

The gauntlet fired at the most awkward of moments. With a loud whining sound, a blast of orange light burst from the palm and connected with the robot's head, blasting through its neck and continuing forwards. The bolt barely missed Tony's face, leaving a small burn, before connecting with the wall behind the man. 

As soon as it had fired, Steve felt heat rising inside of the armor. Pain shot through his hand and he pulled the metal off with a yelp. As it came to rest on the floor, a soft puff of smoke rose from the metal. 

There was no questioning it, the thing was fried. One didn't need to be a genius to figure that out. Heat rose in Steve's face as he realized that it might not have been his "hand position" that had stopped the damn thing from firing, but rather the machine itself. 

 

Tony, now free of the robot, toppled to the floor, coughing. His neck was bruised, small traces of the robot's fingers still visible against his skin. That, however, was not what Steve was looking at. 

At first, when Steve had seen the dark bandages around himself, he hadn't thought much of it. _So what if they were made of some dark fabric?_ It could have been anything. Now he realized that it must have been sections of Tony's shirt. He remembered the dark long-sleeved shirt back in the helicarrier. Obviously, the man hadn't been given time to change because of all the chaos. 

Tony was in rough shape, much rougher shape than Steve had thought in the first place. He was mostly shirtless, covered in small cuts and scrapes (probably dating back to the helicarrier as well). But the issue was mainly located in the man's shoulder. Just behind the joint, a large section of shirt was left intact, held on by strips of cloth... and what looked like a large chunk of metal. The large shard was  _clearly_ from the suit, the bright red paint was a dead giveaway. There were several areas on his arms that also bore symptoms of puncture wounds, but they were clean. 

Still coughing, Tony rose shakily to his feet, his hands shook and he massaged his neck gingerly. 

"You... okay?" The man whispered, his voice rough. 

Steve nodded slowly, still eyeing Tony's shoulder. 

"That boy," Steve nodded at the kid in yellow, "is he alright?" 

"Just knocked out, concussion. He'll live."

 

Just then, a small figure dropped down from somewhere above the doorway.

 

Steve froze as he took in the figure that stood before him.

 

 _James_?

 

_How can you be here?_

 

Covered in oil and grime, shield strapped to his arm, James stood on top of one of the fallen crates. 

Steve had only seen James a matter of hours ago... at least that's how long he _thought_ has passed. Being unconscious made telling time almost impossible.   

The boy looked him up and down, then turned to Tony. Silently, he dropped to the floor, tapping a device on his wrist as he went. With a soft hum, the holographic shield disappeared. 

There was another crash from the doorway and the girl, Torunn, entered the room. She has, instead of landing gracefully like James, she has simply smashed through them with her sword. She was dressed the same, covered in that golden armor that so resembled Thor's.

Together, the pair took in the scene inside of the old restaurant with wide eyes.

Leaning over, she looked at the boy in yellow. She nodded at James.

 

"He will live to fight another day."

 

Then, she directed her attention to the rest of the room. James, who had been blocking her view of Tony and Steve, shifted position.

The girl's eyes went wide.Without warning, she walked forwards and extended her hand towards Tony's shoulder.

"You look so... _young_." It was not in an Asgardian speaking tone, surprising Steve. Maybe the girl hadn't spent much time there...

Tony looked up into her eyes, confusion etched into his features.

 

"What..."

 

Steve suddenly understood. It was like puzzle pieces falling into place.

 

_Time travel! What I saw was the past! No... what I experienced. They must remember Tony as an old man. They also must remember...his death..._

 

"They -no, _we_ \- saw you die, Tony," Steve said, staring at James's face. 

"I remember that day," said James, refusing to meet Steve's eyes, "figures that you're back now. The world is ending anyway."

 

 _Huh_?

 

Torunn spun towards Steve (back in her Asgardian speaking style) "for the longest time, we thought you had fallen to the Enchantress. Then we found out that the portals were not to some cursed land, but to a land in different time."

"If you're real," James said, his eyes narrowing, "and you're not some trick of Ultron's, you're going to have to prove it!" 

 

The boy jabbed his finger at Steve. He was clearly frustrated. 

 

_I wish I understood..._

 

"My father died a long time ago, Tony was more of a father than him. If you're _really_ my father, I want to know why. What happened to the world... how could you leave us? WHAT HAPPENED LAST YEAR?"

Suddenly all eyes were on Steve. Feeling depressed, he bowed his head. There was so much more at work than the feelings of one boy... Tony, Torunn...

 

_Can I live with that guilt? Did I really abandon my son?_

 

"I remember being there... Natasha was with me... Tony- ah... Torunn was almost hit with an energy burst from Enchantress, but I blocked it. I'm real... but I don't know you, I don't know any of this! All I remember is New York and the fight last year... those are the only things I've done since waking from the ice!" 

As he finished speaking, he noted the way that Tony's eyes were wide. Torunn was holding her sword in a death grip, her knuckles white.

"Real," she whispered.

James simply stared, a silent, disbelieving figure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER -STEVE_
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> Doing everything on my phone now, so I apologize for any issues!!!  
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> We're finally getting some James/Torunn in the next chapter!!! :D
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> 6/30/17 - ran through and edited some stuff (Autocorrect is annoying). AAAHHHH SO MANY ERRORS AAHHHHHH. = fixed


	11. Twisted(2)-Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _A Note About Last Chapter_  
>  WHAAA! I read through it today (6/30/17) and I almost had a heart attack. I have not seen my work so full of errors since that one horrible school paper! Like holy cow! -might be worth scanning through again, it's much better now- but yeah...  
> I also am happy to announce that I have a new laptop, so writing has just gotten x200 easier. Typing on my phone brings up problems like what I was having last chapter. 
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> Hope you all enjoy! After this chapter, we're back on regular schedule!
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> This chapter contains some graphic stuff, so you have been warned.

_"My father died a long time ago, Tony was more of a father than him. If you're really my father, I want to know why. What happened to the world... how could you leave us?"_

 

Steve did not know what to think about those words. For the longest time, he had sat there, pondering. 

 

Torunn had taken James and the unconscious kid outside. They just beyond earshot, in deep conversation. Clearly there was some sort of disagreement between the two. Judging by the ferocity of the argument, they were quite close.

There was a soft shuffling sound from next to Steve and he turned to see that Tony had slid over. Curiosity was written all over the man's face, mixed with a deeper concern. 

"What was that about? I only know what happened from my end. What happened, Cap?" He settled down, wincing slightly as the blanket rubbed against his bad shoulder. 

"It's a long story that can wait," Steve replied, eyeing Tony's shoulder, he remembered the piece of metal lodged there, "shouldn't you remove that metal? Might lose function there if it stays for much longer."

"Yeah..." Tony scratched the back of his head, his voice trailing off.

There was something in Tony's expression that was unsettling. Steve couldn't decide what it was. It was a haunted look, one that he'd never seen on the man. Suddenly Tony was unreadable, like a mask falling into place over his face. 

 

_He's an egotistical man, one that doesn't like being directed by others. It must pain him that I'm right. That he should be getting the wound looked at. What is it though? Back in that helicarrier -the moment I came in- he became quite defensive. Is he trying to be a friend, a teammate? Or is he testing me in some way? I'll bet he was testing me to see if he could really trust me. After all, he was being nicer than usual, up until a few seconds ago..._

 

Sighing, Tony rose to his feet and slowly made his way behind the small bar that sat against the wall. It was in a state of disorder, but still seemed in decent condition. Only partially visible, Tony seemed to be fumbling with something on the far counter. Seconds later, there was a faint  _pop_ and the sound of water filled the air. More struggling, and the sound vanished. 

Turning, the man made his way back to Steve. Wordlessly, the super-soldier let himself be pulled into a -rather shaky- standing position. Even in a person as ego-driven as Tony was, common sense still existed. There was no point in argument. The shoulder could easily become infected and it was better to take care of it now, than later. With access to water so close by, there was an opportunity to cleanse the wound without much issue. 

Getting off of the ground was quite an adventure. While Steve had been slowly getting used to the painful throbbing in his back (sitting down), standing was a completely different story. Upon being pulled onto his feet, Steve suddenly became dizzy, his spine blazing with a white-hot pain. That strength that he'd felt for so long was gone and, for the first time since waking up from the ice, he could not trust his body to hold him upright. Letting out a soft gasp, Steve's knees buckled and the floor rushed up towards him. 

A strong arms gripped Steve from below his armpits, followed by a grunt of pain.

"What the  _hell_ Cap?" Came Tony's muffled voice, "quit being lazy on me. We're probably not going to be able to stay here after that attack. We need to find some way to get you moving."

Steve winced as Tony adjusted his grip, wrapping his arm around his midsection. There was no way that Tony could help him stand without coming in contact with his injuries in some way. He tried to move his arm, but was greeted by another severe bout of pain. Roughly, Tony gripped his wrist and pulled Steve's arm around his neck. Trying not to lean too much, he let the other man support his weight. 

Slowly, the pair made their way across the small room and around the bar. At one point, Steve's arm threatened to slip off of Tony's shoulders, and the man tightened his grip around Steve's midsection, making him suck in his breath as the pain increased. Sensing his discomfort (even though nothing had been said), Tony relaxed his grip and instead focused on their destination. 

After what had felt like ages, they reached the sink. Pulling a bar stool closer, Tony motioned for Steve to transfer his weight there. Steve gripped the stool and leaned forwards, trusting the spindly structure to hold. 

 

_There are other, potentially better solutions to this. One of the kids could just as easily help Tony as I can... probably they'd have an easier time with it too... but he still seems to want me to do this..._

 

Steve heard a loud ripping sound and abruptly turned to face the disturbance. Tony had sat down on a stool, facing the sink. He was in the process of ripping the last of the bandages off of his shoulder. With a final tearing sound, the dressings came apart, revealing the nasty wound beneath. 

Tony must have been able to clean some of the wound, but it was clear that he could only see a part of it. While the wound was clean and neat in the front, devoid of much metal fragments (other than the one large one), the back was a completely different story. Compared to the rest of Tony's body, the burn was a large strip of redness that encircled his right shoulder. Small metal pieces dotted the skin, marked by the fresh scabs and blood that were visible from when the metal had rubbed the skin.

Feeling slightly sick, Steve looked back at the sink. Tony's hands were gripping rim of the metal basin tightly, the rags still clutched in his hand. 

"We'll need those rags to wash this off. After that, we might need to borrow some of that blanket," Steve said quietly.

"Yeah," replied the genius, his voice tight, "how... just how bad is it?" 

"Pretty bad, I'll need to remove some of the metal fragments first."

Seeing Tony's expression, his insides twisted in sympathy. The man had already removed a lot of the pieces that had been _visible_ to him and clearly remembered the discomfort that had come with it.

After a few seconds, Tony nodded, "we can't sit here all day, can we?" He grimaced and turned on the sink, letting the cool water flow out of the tap. 

 

Nodding back, Steve leaned forwards and rinsed his hands under the water, embracing its cool touch. Taking the rags from Tony's slightly-shaking fingers, he cleaned them of blood and any debris that had managed to cling to the rough cloth. As he worked, he was painfully aware of the figure next to him, radiating negativity like a portal to hell. 

 

_What is he thinking about? I don't know what happened to him, but he's more on edge than usual._

 

As if on queue, Tony turned to look at Steve's face. 

"What happened, Steve?"

Heart sinking, Steve paused his scrubbing and sighed. 

 

_What did I expect? For the billionaire to keep quiet? I barely know the man, but from what I've seen..._

 

"Maybe-"

Talking right over him, Tony kept going, "maybe it's time that you finally start spilling the truth, Rodgers! In case you haven't noticed, I'm the only one in the dark here. Those kids were there too, they were there when you saw...  _whatever_ happened. I don't know about you, but I hate being kept in the dark, especially if it's just because another person doesn't want to talk about it!" 

 

Steve raised his hands in a gesture of peace, "Tony, how about we just get your shoulder patched-"

 

"Good, then you tell me while you're doing that?" 

Steve bristled, but managed to keep from a sharp retort. There was no arguing with the man, that was clear enough.  Stiffly, he began to examine the shoulder. Raising one of the wet rags, he wrung out the water over the wound. The water splashed the wound roughly. Tony gritted his teeth and gripped the countertop tightly, letting out a soft hiss. Filled with immediate regret, Steve proceeded much more gently, remembering how much wounds like that hurt. Back in the war, he had been grazed by one of Hydra's lasers...

 

Careful not to irritate the skin any further, Steve began to pull at the smaller metal shards. Many of them were small enough that they didn't hurt too much upon removal. Some of them however, had rougher edges and required much more attention. From time to time, he would glance up at Tony's face. The man was doing remarkably well, staring straight ahead as tho determined not to look at anything except the wall. Several times, Steve could catch Tony holding his breath and reminded him to breathe. He considered saying something about what had happened to him, but decided against it. 

Finally, it came time for the large chunk of metal to come out. Without much discussion, they both agreed that doing it on the ground would be better. Feeling stronger, Steve was able to lower himself to the ground without much issue. 

"Just remember to keep breathing," he said for the hundredth time that morning as he gripped the metal. 

Tony grunted, "just get it over, old man. You owe me one. You still haven't told me about-"

Steve hesitated for a moment, then pulled the metal upwards with all his strength. The metal came free with a metallic squelching sound. 

Tony howled. 

Blood welled up from the newly formed hole in Tony's shoulder. Pressing down the bandages onto the wound, Steve carefully watched Tony's expression. The man's face was a mask, pale, but unyielding. As Steve began to wrap some strips of ripped blanket around the burn, the man's ragged breathing began to even out. Soon, Tony was outfitted with a makeshift sling and covered by the remaining portion of the blanket. 

"Mmph, I hope I never have to go through that again," he groaned, "damn those robots."

Looking at the man, Steve finally realized something. Tony had bound his upper chest with a thick layer of black bandaging, even though it seemed that the majority of the damage was located in his shoulder.

 

_What was worth sacrificing so much for? What is he hiding? Is that the "arc reactor" that SHEILD's file talked about?_

 

Hurried footsteps came pounding through the door, distracting Steve. 

Torunn rushed into the doorway, her eyes flashing. Over the bar, she could only see Steve who was mid-bow, having just returned the blanket to Tony. 

"What has happened?" She demanded, pointing her sword at him.

"Nothing!" Tony yelled from where he was sitting.

At the sound of the man's voice, Torunn visibly relaxed. James appeared in the doorway next to her, followed by an unfamiliar face. He was a slightly taller boy with a longer body , beating James by about three or four inches. He sported white-blond hair and dark brown eyes which, as Steve noticed, seemed to follow Torunn as she strode towards the bar. 

Tony gripped the stool nearby with his good arm, pulling himself into an unsteady standing position. His knees shook and he leaned heavily on the stool.

Torunn halted her advance as she saw Tony's face. James came to stand next to her. Behind them, the new boy folded his arms. 

"I told you it was nothing," he said, "and is that my blanket?" 

"I needed to borrow it for a bit, you'll get it back later," said Tony, "Francis, right?" 

"Yeah," the boy sniffed. 

James looked back at Francis with irritation, "you just got back from patrol duty, why don't you tell them what you told me?"

"Oh yeah," said the taller boy, "I was scouting this morning and I found the crater that you landed in. It's deserted there. My guess is that they don't expect anyone else to show. Before you two arrived, it was crawling with bots. There's also a rather large patrol coming from the North. My guess is that it's double the size what hit us this morning."

"We should move out," said James, "can you guys move?" 

Tony and Steve exchanged a glance. Though as much as Tony was trying to hide it, it was clear that the man was worried about Steve. Sitting and binding a wound was one thing, running and walking for long periods of time, that was another thing entirely. 

"Is Vision online yet?" Asked Francis, looking down at something out of Steve's sight. 

"Let us find out," Torunn knelt down and picked up the robotic head that had been sitting in the middle of the floor. In all the action, it had been forgotten. 

 

"Hello!" It said in a very polite, English voice. 

"He's online," Francis said, stating the obvious.

 

"What the hell?" Tony was looking at the head, eyeing it like it might explode. 

"So, can you guys move?" Another kid stuck his head into the doorway. He had dark skin and wore dark armor. The hand that wrapped around the doorframe was gloved, laced with s metallic exoskeleton that shone when the light hit it. 

"There are robots coming from the North right now! We have to get out of here! Francis and I can lure them away, but there's bound to be some more coming from the East."

"Oi!" Francis yelped, "it's not like I'm volunteer-"

"Too late," James said, "you go with Azari."

"I'll go too," said Torunn, hefting her sword, "someone's got to have their back." 

James hesitated before nodding, "I'll take Henry and... you know. Meet us in twenty minutes at the jet. If you guys can't make it out in time, go to the typical hideout. If you aren't back by night, then we'll come for you in the morning."

Steve sensed resentment from the boy. It was understandable, they were only burdens at the moment. While Tony had been injured, he could still escape without much problem. Steve, however, was having trouble remaining on his feet. His vision kept swimming in and out of a murky haze. As much as he despised being useless, he had to admit that there wasn't much he _could_ do.

"The quinjet is about two blocks away. We left it on the roof of this one parking garage. Do you think you can make it that far?" Asked James, looking Steve in the eye.

"They have to," said Francis as he stepped back out of the room, "they can't stay here, can they?"

"Good luck," Torunn gave James's shoulder a quick squeeze before she departed, following Azari out. 

 

Travelling (just to the cart's location) was one of the most challenging things that Steve had ever done. Supported by Tony on one side and using the wall to keep himself upright, progress was slow. James had thought up the idea of using the old food cart from the back as a transport for him. Sure, it was built for carrying grains and other items (during the war), but it could support his weight just fine. 

After seeing how distressed Steve was about being "babied" so much, Tony had pointed out that they would have needed the cart anyway for Henry. The poor kid was still out. Without Torunn, Francis, and Azari, they were exposed. Even through James could've probably carried Henry all the way to the jet, it would have been a problem if they were attacked. Pulling a cart was not a problem, if an attack occurred, Tony could always swap with him. Neither Tony nor Steve were in any shape to help when it came to combat.

 

The cart was small and rickety, covered in chipping paint and old wood shavings. Even so, Steve was relieved at finally stopping.  As he sat down, he was painfully aware of how it creaked and groaned under his weight. He would have expected to see a cart of this kind out in a farm, not in the middle of a city...

James set down Henry nearby, placing Vision's head in Steve's arms.

Each person picking up an old wooden handle, Tony and James lifted off. 

The cart creaked warningly as it started to move, but held.

 

The first real hiccup in the plan arrived about ten minutes later.

That was when the explosions started.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _NEXT CHAPTER - CLINT/NAT_


	12. Twisted(3)-When Things Start to Get Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MEGA UPDATE TIME! (I'm a nerd) - 7/15/17
> 
> So this chapter is a shorty, my apologies. To kind make up for it, Chapter 14 has been posted, as well any updates that were needed.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Natasha spent the next few days in the hospital bed being lectured by Clint about staying put. Ever since she'd arrived in the mansion, Natasha had been mostly at the center of attention. People were constantly milling about, asking questions about Captain America, Iron Man, the Hulk, and so on. It was a nice change, but she did find it to be somewhat unnerving at times. The daily schedule was also quite different. It was far more relaxed, the atmosphere much more homely and warm than SHIELD. With all of this in mind, Nat found herself wanting to explore the area and to get to know people. It was a part of her that she rarely was able to let loose.    

The level one alarm would only go off about three or four times a day (just a soft beeping and flashing on the monitors), signaling for the low-threat response team. Anything higher would trigger a much larger alarm. To Natasha's relief, that had not yet happened. This, too, was a change. At SHIELD, there were always alarms going off for random reasons, for theft, murder, extraterrestrial stuff... It was quite  _peaceful_  to not have that.

After some convincing, Carol had been kind enough to grant her basic level permission to the main computer system(Nat thought that it might have been rude to just go and hack into it). To anyone else, the Carol's reluctance to allow Natasha access would seem harsh and quite overly-defensive, but to anyone with SHIELD training, it was proof that the woman was an even better leader.

While both Clint and Nat were original members of the Avengers, there was still much to be doubted. Questions like: _Why show up now_ _? Were they sent by another person? Are they spies? What were their motives?_   They were trusted members of the _first_ Avengers team but their trust for the _new_ team had yet to be earned. 

 

 _Always be wary of a newcomer, never trust too much._    

 

* * *

 

 

_Clint and Natasha had discussed the idea of time travel for hours, scouring every detail that they could find from the records (or any trusted source).  In three days, they had come up with nothing besides what had been presented to them in the beginning: the mystery of the Hulk._

 

 

_-_

 

_During that time, Natasha was also able to make a full recovery. The toxin that so easily could burn through one's immune system, had been fully extracted in time to prevent any lasting damage._

 

_-_

 

_Both former SHIELD agents were introduced to the Black Panther. Also, they became better acquainted with Logan._

 

_-_

_Natasha did not have any more memories of the portal. From her previous episode, they had come to the conclusion that Clint had not been in the same "time tunnel" as she, Steve, and Tony had been in._ _Natasha had tried to remember more things from then, but it was as though something was stopping her, pulling memories away just as she began to piece them together. When she voiced this to Clint, he could only joke and shake his head._

_Neither of them had any answers._

 

* * *

  ~Morning of the 4th day~

 

Clint sighed and rubbed his face with a his hands. He was sitting in the living room, sprawled out on one of the couches, tablet in hand. He had been reading up on more details from the Hulk case. So far, there was nothing new. Next to him, Natasha sat quietly, scrolling through more data. She probably knew that he was watching her, but she remained silent.  It had been a day since she had been released from the medical bay and Natasha had not let the time go to waste. She had immediately gone on a full tour of the mansion and looked at every inch of it, including the blueprints. 

At first, Clint had laughed at her for being silly, knowing that she had her reasons, but still teasing her for it. In turn, she had drilled him on the importance of knowing where the entrance, and exits to every building were; only layering over points that he already knew. 

 

_Ahhhh, if only we could be of any use... All this research is a waste of time. We aren't finding anything!_

 

There was a clanking sound from the kitchen and Natasha looked up. Catching Clint staring, she raised her eyebrows and he looked away hastily. Carol was at the counter, filling a cup of coffee. When she saw them, she raised her hand in greeting. 

"Coffee?" She asked, raising the mug. 

The woman was in uniform with the hood off.  When the pair shook their heads, she sighed and set the mug down, her hand still wrapped around its ceramic surface. 

 

"We got a new lead on Dr. Doom, it's not much though. Just a possibility," Clint sat up, suddenly wide awake.

"It's an apartment seven blocks away from the portal, we never really got a very good look at it on our first search mission. Strange says that there's been an anomaly there, much smaller than the two that brought you here. It was something small enough to go under the radar. He also said that he'd like a full team to look into this. Dr. Doom might not be alone. There's been at least three anomalies, one new one this morning that we didn't expect-"

  
"-how long has this been going on for?" Demanded Clint, exchanging a look with Nat, "have you guys been hiding-"

Carol cleared her throat, "despite what you guys might think, we  _have not_ been hiding anything from you. We don't do that here. The portals, anomalies, whatever you want to call them, were too small to transport a human. This morning's, which caught our eye, more thanenough power to. We're heading out soon. Widow, I'm not sure if you're strong enough yet, but I'll let you be the judge of that. If we do get into a fight, I'd highly recommend that you stay back. I can't make you. Since you technically outrank me in experience, I don't really have the right to either." 

Natasha nodded. The assassin clearly respected the words. Rising from her seat, Clint watched her head back up to her room (which she had moved into yesterday).

 

Sighing, he followed her upstairs, mentally preparing for the mission ahead. His heart was pounding.

 

_This could be it! This could be the mission that everyone has been waiting for! There could be clues on what happened to us two years ago! But... could it be another person? Who has come through now... and does Doom have them prisoner?_

 

He was half way up the stairs when a sharp pain stabbed through his head, making him gasp and fall to his knees. Shins banging painfully into the steps, he sank down to the ground, clutching the small handrail that was now at shoulder-height. 

 

 _"Not far from the truth, archer."_  

 

The words cut through his mind like icy daggers, making his head throb with their power. His vision swimming, he grasped at the handrail, feeling the wood under his fingers. Another bout of pain raced through him as he felt the presence grow stronger. Something was probing him.  It was as though someone had carved open the back of his skull and was digging their fingers into his brain. 

  
Clint did the only thing that he could, he resisted with all his might. The effort made him cry out. 

 

_"Hmmm... what is this? A warrior's heart? Interesting."_

 

There was a short silence, Clint got the terrible thought that the person was pondering... It was a woman, or rather, something that had a female  _voice._ It was a cold, bitter voice, but it somehow was familiar...

 

 _"It is too bad that you will not last long. If only the true soldier were here... ahh such a heart of gold that runs through that one. Or perhaps my own love would do better, but he is off with his oh-so-precious_ _-father. Hmm, not for long though. He shall come over to me soon enough."_

 

The tendrils of thought receded and Clint was left exhausted. He let himself fall to the steps, telling himself that he had only thirty seconds of rest. After all, there was a mission to be completed. 

 

_But..._

 

The woman had said some things that were  _too_ close, too close to the truth. Clint lay there, eyes closed and breathing hard. 

 

_She has to be involved somehow... but how?_

 

"Hawkeye!" Came a yell from upstairs, hurried footsteps followed. 

Footsteps could also be heard from downstairs, hurriedly ascending the steps. 

 

"Clint! Can you hear me?" Someone yelled close to his ear.

With a soft jerk, Clint flinched back from the loud noise. 

 

It was as though all the energy had left his body and drained away. With a grunt of effort, he rolled over, feeling the stairs dig into his body. He winced as the light hit his eyes. Carol -in full Captain Marvel gear- and Natasha (also in full uniform) were standing over him. 

 

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, "I might have just discovered something though..."

 

"There was this woman-"

 

_"Now now, can't have you go spoiling everything, archer boy!"_

 

Clint yelled in surprise and clutched his head. He had been expecting the voice to return, but not as quickly or as painfully. 

  
Green light flashed all around the room, illuminating everything in a dazzling display. The following explosion shook the whole mansion. Purple engulfed the center of an expanding hole in reality, taking shape only a few meters from where they sat. Light crackled from nearby power outlets, arcing forwards and all around the vortex. Clint was doubled over, but he could tell that both Natasha and Carol were rooted to the spot, clearly watching whatever was happening in front of them. 

 

_"How discourteous, archer. Almost spoiling our little secret before I arrived."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly crazy, sorry for the confusion! Lots of info to shove into these next few chapters!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _NEXT CHAPTER ~ TONY/STEVE_


	13. Twisted(4)-"Shhhh..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Steve make their escape/ some good stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probs my Fav. chapter!!!, also features ..... aahhh, but that might spoil it... as if the chapter title doesn't spoil it enough xD
> 
> This chapter was another "pair" with last chapter. 
> 
> MAJOR NEXT AVENGERS SPOILERS (LIKE FOR REAL)
> 
> I feel honored by all of your guys' support and love, I _truly_ could not ask for more from those people who are reading this. Which is why I'm happy to announce that I'm starting drafts for several Next Avengers One-Shots. No promises on publishing dates, but they WILL happen! 
> 
> I love all of you so much and thank you for helping me make it this far! 
> 
> Hope you like this chapter ;)

The cart rocked as James ducked under a chunk of flying rock which narrowly missed Tony's face. Flying in front of them, the stone shattered against the pavement, pelting their shins with pebbles. 

 

_Boy am I glad that I didn't bring the suit along. Any more weight on this cart and I think I'd just about fall flat on my face._

 

Shoulder burning and limbs rapid'y tiring with his attempt at sprinting, Tony stumbled. James, seeing his weakness, yelled something incoherent. Tony had begun to have his suspicions earlier that day about how old the kid really was. Earlier he had guessed around eleven or twelve, but now he was guessing closer to fourteen. 

 

_Pretty short for a fourteen year-old..._

 

Explosions were sounding all around them, seemingly shaking the ground with their power. Whatever had been tracking them back at the restaurant had clearly found them.

 

"There it is!" James's yelled. 

Speeding up and jerking the cart to the left, James hauled them towards an old building. His red-bronze hair caught the light and shone as they went. 

 

_Definitely Natasha's kid._

 

The rendezvous point turned out to be a half-collapsed building covered in moss and ivy. It had a flat surface on top that seemed deserted.

"Vision!" James cried, "uncloak the Quinjet!" 

"Working..." Came the cool, British voice of the robotic head. 

Tony chanced a glance back at the cart. On any normal circumstance, he would have laughed his head off, but found that reaction to be somewhat inappropriate. 

Steve was sitting upright inside of the cart, Henry's head in his lap, his left hand holding him steady as the cart flew over numerous bumps and other obstacles. In the other hand was the robot's head, still blabbering away about some computer code that Tony could not hear. Judging by the expression on the super-soldier's face, he was slightly creeped out by the robot.  

Ahead of them, there was a shimmering on the flat area of the ruins as something came into sharp view, right before their eyes. It was a jet, covered in a strange metal plating that glimmered in the morning light. Dust covered its underside, making the silver exterior's glow muted, like looking through dirty glass. 

Tony gasped, it was a design that he had come up with only a few months before New York. Of course, there were differences in the structure and layout of some of the appliances and mechanics, but it was definitely the same thing. As the party drew closer, the main ramp opened, sending small clouds of dust into the air as the lifts depressurized. With a soft  _thud_ the large metal walkway hit the ground, exposing the belly of the jet to the light.

 

Just then, an explosion sounded right above their heads, throwing everyone to the ground. The cart ground to a halt behind them. Pulling his face out of the rough dirt, Tony looked up just in time to see Torunn plow into the pavement only several feet from him. Crying out, James scrambled up from where she had fallen and knelt over her. Gently, he shook her by the shoulder. Her armor clanked slightly from the movement, but she did not respond. 

"Torunn! Wake up!" 

He shook her once more. 

"Torunn! Come on!"

 

Tony looked forwards.

 

_No! She can't be dead! She's too young to go like this! She's Thor's daughter._

Crawling forwards, Tony pulled himself so that he was level with James. Reaching out with his good arm, Tony felt Torunn's wrist for a pulse. He relaxed when he felt it clear and strong. 

Thinking fast, he looked between Torunn, James, and the cart. 

 

Steve, unable to move as he was, had thrown himself forwards and on top of Henry, protecting the boy from harm. It seemed that the kid had finally awakened as there were several muffled groans coming from beneath the super-soldier's bulk.

 

"Can you carry her?" Tony asked James, gripping the younger man's arm, "I could take the cart, even in my condition. I can't carry her like this!" He gestured at his arm in the sling. 

James nodded, worry still etched on his face. With the help of Tony, James was able to put Torunn onto his back. When they realized the neither of them could lift the sword, they abandoned it. 

His left arm almost beyond its point of tolerance, Tony began to haul the cart forwards. Steve called out encouragement, but Tony blocked it out. 

The haze that had come over him while Steve had been cleaning his shoulder wound, had come back in full force. It was all he could do to try and control the pain. Much more and that tight focus would snap. 

 

_One more step, good. Now another..._

 

_Five more yards..._

_  
Three..._

_  
_

_Two..._

 

_I ... made it?_

 

Blinking, Tony hunched forwards, gripping is right shoulder. It wasn't even that shoulder that hurt, but it still brought some comfort... 

The Quinjet's cargo bay was right in front of him, wide open. Torunn had already been taken inside to a secure spot and James was helping Steve inside. Henry was still delirious, every now and then uttering something incoherent. 

 

_Left shoulder..._

 

_Pain..._

 

The world was falling together like it was being crushed by a giant vice. Everything was swimming. Tony took a step backwards and slipped, coming down hard on his rear end. Ignoring the ache from the rough landing. He shuffled backwards until he could feel the cart against his left shoulder. There, he curled into a tight ball, struggling to breathe past the lump that had formed in his throat. No... it was not a lump, but a sort of terrible tightness. 

 

_Fifth chakra..._

 

_Anxiety? Isn't that what it's called?_

 

_What..._

 

_Can't be happening to me!_

 

_I'm Iron man... nothing is..._

_Nothing is..._

 

_Nothing is supposed to get to me like this..._

 

_Have to be strong..._

 

_I have to be..._

 

 

_No more air!_

 

A hand came down on his left shoulder and Tony balked, his head collided with the cart and he winced. Gingerly, he raised his left arm and rubbed the spot. 

 

"You okay?" Came James's voice, "you were really pale! It's been five minutes since we got here. Azari and Francis already have come back! We need to leave!"

 

Shakily coming into a standing position, Tony hobbled just inside of the Quinjet before collapsing against the wall once more. He could feel the jet take off, but didn't care about anything past that. All that mattered was the situation inside of him. The battle that needed to be resolved. 

The others had all gone up to the cockpit and were discussing things. Their words were mixed and jumbled to Tony. Soon, they stopped altogether. After what seemed like an age, there were footsteps. James appeared next to Tony and sat down, putting his back against the wall and pulling his knees to his chest. 

 

Tony turned and looked into the bright eyes of the kid. He could see his own pale, scruffy face reflected back. He wondered what the boy was seeing in him. What value there was in the face that the kid was seeing. If there had ever been love in those eyes towards him... no  _love_ wasn't the correct word. 

 

_Respect._

 

"Tell me, kid... Am I the same person that you saw die last year?" 

 

A shadow passed over James's face. 

 

"No," came the reply.

 

"Why not?" 

 

"He was a father to me, but he also raised us on lies. He created a monster but was desperate to hide it from us. You are just a younger version... so you're the same, but also not the same." Tony listened and understood, but could not fathom what the kid was saying. 

 

"I'm sorry, am I disrupting something?" Steve's voice broke into Tony's thoughts. Tony shook his head. 

There were more footsteps and a fully-aware Henry, Azari, Francis, Torunn (back to normal), and Steve appeared. 

 

"You need to hear this, Tony," the super-soldier said solemnly. 

 

Tony was instantly alert, seeing a distraction from his misery and seizing it. He sat up a little straighter, growing a few inches in the process. The kids grouped around him, sitting on the cold metal nearby. Steve (with some difficulty)  lowered himself to the ground several feet away. 

"Vision took over command so we're off the hook," Azari said, his soft voice breaking the temporary silence. 

"So who wants to tell it?" Asked Torunn. 

"This is about our past, isn't it?" James asked.

Torunn nodded, "and Steve has agreed to tell us his part after we tell ours."

James sighed, "you, but not  _you,_ Tony. That's where it all starts. We grew up on tales about the Avengers, how they did these great deeds and all that.  _You_ told us those stories. It would be a happy story, but it had a rather tragic ending. Every time that you hear it, it sounds like it would have a happy ending but... basically it's about this terrible villain named Ultron. It's kind of funny, you see, how little we knew about the world. We were cocky, we didn't know a thing."

Henry bowed his head, then looked up at Tony, "one day we were in training when Vision came in. Back then he had a body. He's an AI, a very smart one. You, well the Tony we knew, went down into his lab. Then-"

"The 'Iron Legion' or whatever it's called, got activated and it lead Ultron right to us. After that, you got captured, we rescued you, then beat Ultron with the help of the Hulk, done!" Finished James with a false smile. 

"Don't forget that you found  _me_ when you guys needed your sorry butts saved!" Francis pointed out.

"That's besides the point!" Complained Torunn, who folded her arms. 

Steve shook his head, "wait, there's something I don't understand yet.  _Who_ is Ultron?"

"You don't know?" Asked James, his eyes widening, " _he_ hasn't told you?" The boy jabbed his finger at Tony who raised his hands in a submissive gesture. 

"What?" He asked, "you think I know who Ultron is?"

The kids all stared at him wide-eyed. 

 

_Oh this is definitely not good! What happened?_

 

"Okay, I'll bite," Steve said, "I need you all to understand me, we just came from 2012. If something happened any later than that, we wouldn't know. I hope you guys realize that. The 'Avengers' is just a band of misfits. We all had powers, so SHIELD recruited us to help them. Hulk wasn't even in the original lineup until Tony pulled him in."

 

James let out a dry laugh, "well then, this is certainly the opposite of what I'd thought would happen!" He looked around at the others, "isn't it?"

Several of them nodded.

"The truth is," James faced Tony and looked right into his eyes, "Ultron, the AI that killed all of our parents and almost killed you last night, was created by  _you,_ Tony." 

 

The world spun as Tony took in the meaning of James's words. 

 

"You're not saying... that I'm  _going_ to create... no!"

 

He looked at Steve with wide eyes. His shock was reflected back at him in the man's eyes. As Tony looked around the group, he saw only downcast faces. The only one who seemed to be holding his gaze was James who had something like anger in his expression.

 

_I see, he blames me... for everything then. Oh god how I must disgust him..._

 

Tony looked away from James's gaze and his eyes went back to Steve. There was a closeness that he had felt towards the Captain, a feeling that had been growing ever since last night. 

 

_I may manufacture weapons, I may create demons, but... but I don't think I would have ever wanted to kill this man. I don't think I ever will either. At least I hope not!_

 

"No."

 

Everyone looked up.

 

"No," Tony repeated, "I can't accept that, James, I'm sorry. I can't accept _this_ future."

Something in the boy's expression changed, _was that relief?_

 

There was a pause. 

 

"What do you mean?" James asked, his voice trembling slightly. 

"He means that this future isn't the one he wants to have," answered Steve, "I may not have known Tony Stark for very long, but I know one thing. A world where he invents a killer robot that destroys everything? I would not accept it either."

 

_Wow, that's sweet of you, Cap._

 

"Steve's right," Tony blurted out. 

Then something occurred to Tony, something that he'd noticed but never commented or made a note on because it was still new...

 

_James, every time he looks at me there's something missing there. He said I was a 'father figure' but then he tells me that I was the one that killed his parents?_

 

_I think I know what's happening. He's putting me together with my 'future me', as though we are the same person. But it's a fact that we are different. Experiences, memories, age... there are many things that set me and the other me apart. He grieved, he must have, as I've noticed, it seems that all of them missed me. Now that I'm apparently back, that feeling of animosity must have come back..._

_The thing is... I won't be able to take away that blame._

_Not unless I do something._

_  
_

There was something about what had happened that made Tony suddenly more protective of the kids. Almost like he owed them the childhood that his 'other self' had robbed them of. 

 

_I need to protect them... I -well sort of - took so much away from these kids... I have to give them back what I took._

 

_I swear it._

 

A long silence had followed the last words. 

Finally, Torunn broke the silence. She laid her hand on top of James's and looked into his eyes. 

"Stop this, James," she said in a firm voice.

This shocked everyone and they all turned to stare at her. 

"You are not being fair to Tony. Ultron didn't return until  _after_ we were born. This cannot be him. This may be a Tony, but it cannot be the Tony that you have blamed. You are not being fair to him by blaming him."

James bowed his head and took her hand, giving it a short squeeze. Torunn's face flushed slightly. 

Francis let out a short cough, "I will be in the cockpit, just fill me in later." 

With that, the blond kid stalked out of the room and up the short hallway to the front of the jet. 

  
Tony could have laughed out loud. 

 

_Drama._

 

Torunn released James's hand and turned to look at Steve. 

"So you do not remember James either?"

Steve shook his head, "but I have met your father." 

A smile played at his lips, brightening his features. 

 

The following conversation was a blur to Tony. He was too busy thinking about Ultron...

 

_So I did end up creating my own demon... again._

 

He looked down at his hands. 

 

_How many did my other 'me' kill with these hands? How many more did he kill with Ultron? Why on earth would he create such a thing? Why? What happened?_

He tried to picture different scenarios which ended with the creation of such an AI, but none came to his mind. 

 

Several minutes later, he still did not have answers. 

 

 

"Steve, what happened to you? We remembered you from last year, but that's all." 

James's voice filled the air and Tony decided to rejoin the conversation. This was something he  _needed_  to hear. 

"I... don't really know where it's best to begin so I'll start from the top. It will be long though," the super-soldier glanced at James who nodded.

"We have the time," the boy said, "where we're going is far away."

 

"Alright then," Steve said, " well, as you probably know, Natasha and I got pulled into a portal together and we landed in the same alleyway as you did, but erm...  _last year."_

Something about the statement sounded wrong to Tony. 

"How did you know I landed there?" He asked.

"There was-" Steve began, but abruptly cut off. 

 

A few seconds later, Tony found out why. 

 

_I was dreaming... right? But then again..._

 

Pain ripped through Tony's skull and he doubled over. Steve had clearly felt the same effects as Tony could hear the other man's gasp of pain. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Darkness, pure and utter darkness._

 

_Falling._

 

Pain blazed behind Steve's eyes, coming in waves. 

 

"T-Tony," he choked out, holding his head between his hands.

There was a buzz of noise as the kids gathered close around them, all asking if they were alright. Hands shook him, but he paid no attention. 

 

"Ouch... shit..."

 

_Him too..._

 

 

He gasped as something threatened to drag him under again, back into whatever he had been seeing. Unable to do anything to stop it, he was swept along with its current. Back down. 

 

Down.

 

_Down._

 

 

_Natasha's face._

 

_He was yelling, screaming, but why?_

_Twisting around... a gleam of red armor._

 

"Tony... you..."

 

_Gripping Natasha's wrist._

 

_A portal opening up beneath Tony, the armor disappearing._

_Looking up behind Natasha._

 

_A face, a laughing woman._

 

_Enchantress._

 

_But someone else too..._

 

_Something, someone..._

_A man?_

_Armor?_

_Robot?_

 

_Pulling Natasha down through the portal._

 

_Landing on cement, explosions all around them._

 

 

 

_What?_

 

The pain was gone, Steve was on the ground, curled. He groaned as he slowly came back to his senses. As reality came back into sharper focus, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked up. Tony and the kids were looking down at him, all wearing the same concerned expression.

"Whoa there Cap, you were out for a while, what happened?" Said Tony.

"Ugh, something just occurred to me," replied Steve as he sat up, "how was it that there was this crater in the ground with fragments of your suit?"

"I went through the same portal-"

"As Natasha and I," finished Steve.

"There's something else though," said the genius, "I thought I was dreaming, but I saw something in that... whatever just happened to us. I think you and Natasha were there. I could hear you screaming, Steve. And you said that you came with Nat..." 

"Yeah," Steve agreed. 

"There was another part of it though. I fell through the portal before you, right?"

Steve nodded, starting to see where this could be leading. 

"For me there was something weird. My suit went through quite a beating too. I hit the ground once, then fell again before landing for the last time. Granted, I was half-aware at the time, but it certainly would fit."

 

_That does seem to make more sense... but there's one more thing._

 

"You were in outer space, right?" Asked Steve, "how does that work?"

Tony only shrugged, "I have no idea."

Steve looked down. 

 

_There is no good way to answer that, is there?_

 

"So anyway, after we landed, there were the explosions everywhere. Nat and I were running down this alleyway when we saw you, Tony. But an older you, thinner, more worn. You were wearing a very messed up version of your suit. Looked more like a broken exoskeleton. Anyway, you got shot right in the arc reactor. Natasha went forwards and tried to patch up the wound but you'd been... it looked like you'd been poisoned several days earlier. Shot with this glowing green stuff." 

"Enchantress!" Blurted James, his eyes widening, "I remember that! About a week earlier, Tony got shot with-"

 

Just then, the interior lights flickered and went red. A flash of green light filled the air and a small, oval-shaped portal filled the air. One person stepped out. 

 

A cruel laugh filled the air and Francis's startled yell echoed from the cockpit. 

The lithe form of the Enchantress stood in front of them, framed by the glowing portal behind her. 

"Too much, too much information, my dear!" With a flick of her wrist, there was a small  _pop_ and a gag tied itself around James's mouth. 

Steve, feeling his body scream in pain as he did so, lunged forwards at the witch, fist raised and ready to strike. Suddenly his mind was on fire, as though something great was trying to break into it. He gritted his teeth to prevent himself from screaming. He grunted as the pain increased. There were muffled thuds and crashes from nearby, something told Steve that the kids were also at the mercy of the witch. 

 _"Scream for me!"_  A voice said in his mind, laughing. It was the Enchantress.

_"Just stay down, sweetheart and no one will die today. I have a bartering tools to collect."_

Tony let out a soft yell and Steve stopped struggling.

 

_Tony too?_

 

"Good, good," said the Enchantress, "now to business." 

 She waved a finger and bindings appeared around James's wrists and ankles. He squirmed but could not get free. With another wave, a second portal appeared underneath him.

 

"Hate to break up father and son so soon!" Sneered the Enchantress, "but this is urgent!"

 

Just as the portal reached its maximum power, Torunn, who was closest to James, lunged forwards. In one quick movement, she wrapped her arms around his neck. The movement was too fast, too unexpected for anyone to react. 

 

Muffled by the gag, but still clearly audible, James cried out, "NO!" 

 

 

Then the pair were falling downwards and out of Steve's sight, into the depths of time. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... features a slightly more sinister and cruel Amora(Enchantress). Kind of had to make it that way because of the how the plot works out.  
>  OOOHHHH things are going to get pretty interesting from here on out!
> 
> On a side note, I pretty much pulled an all-nighter on this, so I'm sorry for any errors. I tried to read through it and edit as best as I could, but I really wanted this chapter set to get done. Probs going to go through it later and edit some. Hope you enjoyed it and good night! (probs going to sleep through today) 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _NEXT CHAPTER ~ CLINT/NATASHA_


	14. Twisted(5)-Chaos in Avengers Mansion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha, Clint, and the rest of the future Avengers under Carol Danvers's command are faced with the Enchantress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! Finally an update! (YAY!)
> 
> Have plans to get this fic done. My apologies for waiting so long... my family went through some rough stuff for a while. In short, we moved. Those of you out there who know what it's like... it can go smoothly and it can also go quite rough. For the majority of my family, it went smoothly. For me, it was so difficult to make it through all the stress and still be able to write. I know there are people out there that are frustrated or angry with me for just dropping out of a fic like that and leaving it, but the truth is that I had no idea that we were moving until about when Chapter 5 came out. 
> 
> Love you all and sorry for disappointing you!
> 
> On another note, I have done some research and decided that to use the Avenger's mansion layout that was done on deviantart by [lordmalhavok](https://lordmalhavok.deviantart.com/) I CLAIM NO RIGHTS TO THIS (as I am only using it as a resource)  
> 
> 
> The link to the image is here (on some devices it might be difficult to view the picture) [HERE](https://lordmalhavok.deviantart.com/art/alternate-reality-avengers-mansion-1-303377477)
> 
> Seeing the layout really helped me when writing this chapter. 
> 
> Sorry this note is so long, but I will also be working out some of the flaws of the previous chapters. I know I say it all the time, but I had some time to really think deeply about some of the things I'd like to keep in this fic and some of the things I'd like to get rid of.

The room exploded around them, lighting up like fireworks. Green bursts of fire bloomed near the base of the stairs, followed by equally powerful blasts against the far wall which glowed with a kind of orange energy. If the whole thing had not been so dramatic and unexpected, it could have easily been mistaken as a very-poorly staged (not to mention dangerous) indoor fireworks show. Blinding light emanated from the area, masking all detail from view. 

Natasha squinted, still only partially understanding what had just occurred. A humanoid shadow stood a few feet in front of her. That figure glowed with energy and, every so often, would direct some of it at the figure in the crater before them. 

"Get Barton out of here!" Carol yelled, "I'll cover you!" 

Hesitating briefly before complying, Natasha gripped Clint by the upper arm and roughly hauled the archer to his feet. 

"Come on, Clint!" She hissed.

 

_Wake up! We're in a fight! We have to move!_

 

The archer let out a soft laugh, "sorry Nat. Got hit by whatever mental power she has...my legs feel like freaking jelly right now."

Grunting a reply, Natasha dragged the man down the steps and out into the foyer. The entrance of the Mansion facing 5th avenue was reduced to a pile of rubble and wood splinters. The other staircase that stood across the room and the floor had both taken a hit as well. The stairs that lead to the upper floors had been demolished at about five feet, leaving a set of stairs seeming to hang in thin air above the chaos, overlooking the great crater that remained of the marble flooring. 

Enchantress stood in the center of the large crater, firing a constant stream of energy at Carol who didn't seem to be bothered at all when the magic came in contact with her skin. 

At a safe distance within the next room (the room full of couches), Natasha finally had time to get a good look at Clint's condition. She was deeply relieved when she saw that he was only pale and shaky. Give a few minutes, she guessed that he would be fine. 

There were pounding footsteps in the kitchen and Scott burst into the room, followed by a half-dressed Peter-Parker. A very shocked looking Wasp followed. 

Upon seeing the commotion in the entrance, Scott's brow furrowed, "Enchantress?" He asked, the question coming out as more of a statement. 

Natasha nodded, still kneeling next to Clint, "she arrived a few minutes ago."

Judging by his attire, so had he. As far as Natasha could tell, Scott had just returned from a mission, for he was in full uniform, his helmet tucked under his left arm. 

"I'm flattered, Ms. Danvers," came Enchantress's cool, sneering voice, "you had to bring the whole army out to greet me! Since when have I been such a celebrity?" 

Carol's expression was not visible to Natasha, but she was sure that the leader of the Avengers had quite an angry look on her face. The woman's posture was hunched, her hands balled into tight fists. 

"You've been one of our top priorities since you decided to send the original Avengers all over time!" 

 

 "Oh, but wouldn't you be disappointed if you weren't the leader? I did you a favor, sweetheart. If I'd left it the way it was before, there would have been a civil war -give or take a few years. But frankly, would you  _honestly_ trust someone like Tony Stark to lead a team of misfits like yours?"

The witch shrugged innocently, flicking her hair back. She flashed Carol a manic grin, "but who knows? You probably would have helped the Captain, sorry the  _real_ Captain, take over the team long before that!" 

Carol let out a yell and released a bolt of yellow energy from her hands, directing it at Enchantress. Instead of blocking it, the Asgardian leaped to the side and let the energy burn its way through the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the building. Clearly, the villain had struck a nerve. 

"Here," said Scott, pressing four small objects into Natasha's hand, "I was practicing with them earlier. Someone had the brilliant idea to harness them with similar properties that my suit has. These, unfortunately, don't have the power to make things change in size...yet, but they can still do something in a fight."

Natasha nodded her thanks. She had left her weapons with her uniform upstairs. Cap's shield was also up there, sitting on the coffee table in her room. Both locations were hardly useful in the current situation. 

Scott pulled on his helmet and was about to step into the chaos when Natasha caught his arm. She leaped to her feet and confronted him. 

"All of this chaos, everything that's happened...it's all because of her tampering with time! Its either we let her escape again or we take her down and force here to reverse everything she's done."

Scott nodded and took off, Peter followed close behind him, but radiating doubt and hesitation. Unlike Scott, he looked like he'd just woken up from sleeping. He was topless and wore only a pair of old sweatpants. Eyes wild, the boy shot out a stream of webbing and took off into the air, landing up-side-down on the ceiling with a soft  _whump._

Natasha advanced, holding the small circular blades behind her. 

Enchantress laughed out loud and snapped her fingers. A portal opened behind her.

"She's escaping!" Cried out a voice from nowhere. Judging by the pitch and direction that it had come from, it had to be Wasp in her small form. 

"Oh no you don't!" Cried Carol, lunging forwards. 

Just as the Enchantress was stepping back into the portal, the Avengers closed in around her. Carol -who was arguably the fastest and the strongest of all of them- was the first to reach her. With an animal-like snarl, the woman threw a powerful right-hook, catching the villain in the temple and sending her crashing sideways. Flying through the open doorway and out onto the walkway, she hit the cement with a dull  _crack_ , coming to a halt in a tangle of limbs and hair. Not giving her any time to move, Peter dropped from the ceiling and shot webbing at the Asgardian, pinning her to the ground. 

Then Natasha saw it clearly for the first time. There was a small device on Enchantress's wrist. Unclear at such a distance, it seemed to gleam in the light of the sun. 

Unable to move, all Enchantress could do was lie there and glare at the people around her. Catching sight of Natasha, the woman's face twisted into a horrible smile. 

"I guess I did fall for it, huh?" The Asgardian sighed and slowly began to inch her hand towards the device, "you are like children, constantly needing me to come back and keep you in line. Just stay out of the way! But you, Danvers, you played them like pawns, did you not? You knew if you kept in pursuit of this, I would intervene."

Carol had turned to face her team and was scanning them for any injuries. Enchantress no longer in her field of vision, she was oblivious to the villain's current movements. 

"No!" Cried Natasha, seeing the subtle movement, "the device! 

With a swipe downward, Nat sent a shuriken hurtling at the Enchantress. The resulting sound of metal hitting flesh was followed by a soft scream. The hand that had been groping for the device fell back, pierced all the way through with the wicked metal blade of Natasha's projectile. Blood pooled around the wound, staining the pearly webbing that encased it. Peter did not hesitate to cover the Asgardian with more layers of the stuff, binding her even further.  

 

Bound and seemingly helpless, Enchantress rolled her eyes and glared at Carol from beneath waves of blond hair. Her expression was of disgust and mild disappointment. 

"Is this all you have to offer?" 

Clint, who had recovered, came to stand next to Natasha. Together, they stared at the figure in front of them. 

The archer pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Natasha had a feeling that he was experiencing quite the headache. It was one thing to have someone speaking to you in person and quite another to have a voice, an unwelcome voice at that, inside of your head like a plague. She had experienced it as well and could confirm that it was one of the more painful things in life that she'd experienced. It was like someone trying to pull out a tooth, like that kind of pain, but in your brain. 

Things seemed to quiet down for a moment but quickly returned to their old and unexpecting ways when a ring of sparks appeared in the air, announcing the arrival of Dr. Strange. 

High collared cloak masking part of his face, hovering a few centimeters above the ground, and eyes narrowed at Enchantress, the Doctor studied the scene in front of him. Wary and suspicious, Strange slowly approached the woman in front of him. 

All at once, his eyes flew open and he stepped back, "she's-"

Enchantress smirked, "hello there... now, what did you call yourself... Doctor?" 

The air seemed to vibrate with power as green fire bathed the webs that bound her body. The webbing dissolved, flaking away in the bursts of green energy. Rising to her feet, the Asgardian gracefully brushed herself off. Natasha noted that the woman seemed to be favoring one leg over the other. 

 

_Is it possible?_

 

But there was no time for her to even react. 

There was a snap of electricity and an explosion. Almost as quickly, the air rippled and shimmered. Green fire engulfed everything before mechanically collapsing in on itself. Once again, fire burst forward, but (again) disappeared. 

 

"Damn you!" Came Enchantress's voice, sounding -for the first time- genuinely angry, "damn you, Strange!"

 

"I could feel your presence miles away," said Dr. Strange, his voice low and measured, "you don't belong here. Go back where you came and return the Avengers to their time!" 

She gave him a smile that made Natasha's blood boil with anger. 

"Oh honey, if I could, I would," then the villain was lunging forward, surrounded by a wave of fire. 

The world folded in on itself, twisting and turning like reality was rewriting itself. Natasha's stomach churned and she felt acid creeping up her throat. Her mind was screaming a combination of pleas for it to stop and cuss words that did nothing more than make her want to punch something. 

 

Then everything was silent. 

 

They stood in front of the mansion, a large crater behind them and half-burned yard forming a perfect cube around where Enchantress had sat. 

 

Natasha knelt and drove her fist into the lawn. 

 

Enchantress was gone and they had lost the element of surprise. 

 

Carol looked up at the sky. 

 

"I hope Strange will be alright," she mused, "from what you told me, this won't be an easy mission for him."

 

 

Natasha sighed, "are you sure this was the right idea?"  


Carol looked at her. Everyone else was busy, clearing wreckage, talking amongst themselves, etc. so when she finally spoke, Natasha was sure she was the only one that heard. 

 

"Not at all..." 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER: STEVE/TONY
> 
> Chapters may vary in length for a little bit until I find a length that I'm happy with, but this time, I will try to stay consistent.


	15. Twisted(6)-Strange World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Steve and Tony out in the wild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know what I was thinking last time, but I'm merging everything back into Chrono. Rift. This Chapter was from "An Unknown Time". Adding things in order and sorting them out. Please bear with me.

 

* * *

[Earlier That Day]

 

 

A _fter about five minutes of non-stop questions about Thor, Steve was finally able to get a break from Torunn. Now that she had become more comfortable around him, he could hardly get a moment's worth of silence. Telling her all he knew about the god of thunder, he was finally able to shake off the incessant questions. He'd already had to apologize countless times for not knowing Henry or Azari's parents..._

 

_"So you're really my father?"  James asked, his head turned away from Steve's face._

 

_They were sitting in a circle just behind the cockpit. Steve was leaning against one wall in the slightly cramped space, facing James. Henry and Azari were to the side, fidgeting as Torunn played with her sword in her lap. The blade would catch the light every so often, throwing a bright patch of light against the wall. Once, the light scanned over one boy's eyes and caused him to let out a yelp. Torunn had jumped and apologized immediately._

 

_Steve looked down, "I... guess so."_

 

_Francis, who was sitting in the pilot's chair, snorted._

_Ignoring Francis, James turned to look at Tony who was barely in their view. Ever since they had taken off, the man had been isolated back in the main cargo bay, curled up in the corner. It was quite uncharacteristic and beginning to worry Steve. He_   _looked vulnerable, as if all emotional barriers had been cast aside. His knees were drawn to his chest and hands laced in front of him. Steve had a formed a theory as to what was behind the look, earlier that day. The guy was tough, with so many 'masks' about him. With so many different personas, one could easily mistake an action or a snarky comment as the real thing. That was all well and good as a 'shield', but when that mask broke... there was softness inside it that was exposed. It was a part of Tony Stark that very few had seen. Steve could understand more than most. Having been through wars, trauma, and more combat than he cared to remember, he knew the look. It was the look of something haunting you from the past. And the way that Tony's hands shook, the way that he seemed to shiver at the mention of a portal, just reinforced his theory. If he were given a guess, Steve would venture to say that Tony had PTSD in the least. Anxiety? Definitely. From what? He did not know._

 

_Turning his gaze back to the center of the small circle, James cleared his throat, "I'm... sorry." He was fingering a part of his sleeve nervously and did not raise his eyes to Steve's._

_There was a long silence as the others looked between Steve and James, their eyes wide. One could feel the air vibrating with the curiosity. Steve kept his eyes on James, wondering what he meant. It was Francis that finally broke the painful quiet._

_"Come on, spit it out James!"_

 

_Looking panicked for a moment, the other boy coughed and shifted his position. Seeing that everyone was watching, he went back to playing with his sleeve._

_"I ...wish I could ask you so many things," said James, his voice cracking, "about us... why you chose Tony to take care of us... why you left.  What happened to cause all of this? But then again, what am I saying?"_

 

 _Silence_.

 

_He let out a soft laugh, "you're gone... Tony -the Tony I knew- is gone too...well Tony did say that you died... But ... I just wish..." James seemed to almost choke up, but gathered himself, "It's just there's been so much time for me to think about you and mom, for all of us to picture you guys in our own ways... From the stories we were told, from everything else... We had pictures, stories... It's something else to meet the person you've always looked up to. You know? We all looked up to you guys."_

_Everyone nodded and Steve felt his heart twist with emotion. He couldn't say what he felt. While he was touched that the boy cared so much, he realized that him being here was making it difficult for the kid. It came with a sense of pressure. His every action was a part of his legacy. He could ruin this boy's image of his father as well as bless it._

_"I feel like I should be happy right now, being with my father, but somehow... you know. And I'm -we're- sorry,"  James gestured around at everyone, "if we seem like we don't want you here."_

_James cleared his throat nervously and bowed his head, looking embarrassed. Francis's face poked out from behind the seat, staring at the boy. A smile was playing on the blond's face, but was mostly hidden by the seat._

_Speechless, Steve sat there and stared forwards. What could he say?_

 

_Henry leaned forwards, his small hand coming forwards to pat James on the back._

_"We're glad you're here though," the smaller boy said, looking up at Steve, "we've been alone for more than a year now. Hulk disappeared soon after we took out Ultron and we haven't seen him since."_

_"And Tony was our last tie to the past. Without him, we didn't really know what to do," said Torunn, still fiddling with her sword, "we only could really do one thing and that was finish the job that we started. To track down the last of the robots."  
_

 

_Steve lowered his gaze as the room fell silent._

 

_"I'm going to try and talk to him!" James said suddenly, and stood up. Turning, he exited the cockpit and walked over to where Tony was sitting. Leaning down and sitting himself next to the genius, James began to say something. Tony replied a few seconds later. Steve could not hear anything, but he had an idea what was being said._

 

_"He was not like this, you know," Torunn said to Steve, her eyes warm. She was looking at James._

_"Hmm?"  Steve turned back to face her, surprised by her tone._

_"Before our battle with Ultron, he was not like this. He had a warrior's heart but was passion and distrust. He did not see Tony like a father until early last year..." Her voice died away._

 

_They both knew what had happened then._

 

_"He's a different person now, that's all that matters!" Said Francis, getting out of the chair. Stalking over to where Torunn sat, he let himself drop to the ground next to her. As she scooted a few centimeters away, he sighed._

_"Look, there are things that you might not understand about us," said the archer, "but it might be more beneficial if he would listen too."_

 

_Francis nodded towards Tony. Steve could understand what he meant._

 

_"It doesn't seem like he wants to move," remarked Azari, who had been quiet for most of the time, "let's go in there."_

_Reluctantly, Steve pulled himself to his feet. He was pleased to see that his legs were now supporting him somewhat better._

 

 ---

 

_"I'm sorry, am I disrupting something?" Steve walked into the room to see James and Tony look up, clearly having been in deep conversation._

 

_\---_

 

_Enchantress appearing on the Quinjet._

 

_\---_

 

_Enchantress waving her hand and James falling to the ground, chains binding him._

 

_\---_

 

_Enchantress laughing._

 

_\---_

 

_Enchantress opening the portal._

 

_\---_

 

_Enchantress taking James and Torunn away._

 

_\---_

 

_Enchantress..._

 

 

* * *

 

It was like swimming through deep water. The pressure on his lungs, the feeling of urgency, the  _need_ to breathe. 

 

_"Shhh, they will be back soon... but do not worry, tis' nothing that you can do about it. After all, you are my pawn. My sweet, obedient...pawn..."_

 

Steve woke with a start. At first, he was confused. His face was pressed to the deck plates, but all was still. Even with the advanced technology, there was a slight vibration when the Quinjet was running. Now there was nothing. Numbness enveloped his face, starting from the part of his skin that was in contact with the cold metal. 

Peeling his face back from the plating, Steve rolled over. Instantly, he felt pain. Letting out a groan, he began to sit up, only to fall back. His limbs were aching, his back throbbed from the wound, and -on top of all that- there was a pounding in his head that would not stop. Upon rising from the ground, that  _newer_ aspect had begun to complain quite loudly, forcing him back down to the floor. 

"Ow..." came a murmur from near Steve's foot. From the sounds of it, Steve guessed that it was Francis. 

"A-Are they...?" Came Henry's voice. 

Reality came crashing down on Steve, making him choke. 

 

_Another person -NO! Not just one person, but two people, were- taken!_

_I failed to stop her again!_

 

"Tony?" He hissed through gritted teeth. The headache was beginning to get worse, throbbing in his temples. 

"... Shit."

Steve let out a forced laugh. That was Tony all right. 

"I can't believe this!" Came a cry, "How can they just be  _gone_?"

"Henry," came Francis's voice, "remember two years ago?" 

"There's nothing we can do," came Azari's voice, "and either way, I can barely move right now." 

Steve hummed in agreement and closed his eyes. 

A few minutes passed in silence as the five of them lay there, thinking of what they had just witnessed. 

 

"I wonder if the witch hit us with something?" Said Tony, breaking the silence, "would explain why we're all suddenly so tired..." 

There were sounds of agreement.

"Would make sense," Steve mused.

"Heh," came the reply.

 

"Did anyone else see anything?" Asked Francis softly, "I heard some stuff, and I also saw some stuff too. Was like the woman was talking inside of my head. Hurts like h-"

"I did," interrupted Henry.

"Leaves one hell of a headache too," Tony grumbled. 

 

It took about a half hour for everyone to finally get over the sluggishness that had set in from the experience.

In that silent, painfully-long time, Steve had begun come to terms with the guilt that he felt for being helpless...

 

 

 

Opening the hatch and stumbling outside, the group found that Vision had landed them in some strange place that Steve had never been to before. 

"It's the Savage Land," said Azari, slowly coming down the ramp, "one of the few places on earth that the robots are completely driven from. We sometimes come here when things get bad, but with you guys here and J- them being gone, we should stay here for a while."

Everyone understood how Azari was feeling. For some of them, the memory was too raw, to fresh for them to think about it too much. Steve felt depressed from the whole incident and he'd only known the pair for less than a day... for the others though...

Pushing away the emotions, Steve focused on his surroundings. 

Trees lined the small clearing that they landed in and stretched as far as Steve could see. What struck him though, was how green everything was. Compared to the rank, musty air of the city, the air here was incredibly pure. A breeze ruffled his hair and he closed his eyes, breathing in softly. It was clean, yet had traces of salt in it. 

It was a beautiful place.

 

_James should be here right now. Torunn too...it's so unfair..._

 

 

 

_Life isn't fair..._

 

He sighed. Somehow, he had already become so attached to the kids and to see two of them gone, just felt  _wrong_. 

 

_Stop thinking about it, you can't do anything... focus..._

 

As if in a trance, Steve came down the ramp, leaning on one of the supports until he could no longer reach it. As he left the security of the support, he felt his legs begin to shake. Struggling, he took a few more steps before beginning to topple forwards. Hands caught him under the shoulder and pulled him upright. 

"You shouldn't be walking so much," Tony's voice came from behind him. 

Mildly embarrassed, Steve let himself be guided to a nearby fallen tree. The log was fresh, most likely having fallen only a matter of days ago. Lichen and moss lined the trunk, giving the tree an aged look. Vines snaked around the upper branches, twining in and out of the leaves. Feeling the smooth bark under his fingers, Steve frowned. If he were back home, he'd have guessed that it was a beech tree. This tree, however, had a different-patterned bark and a structure that did _not_ match the beech tree's description. 

Sitting there, Steve watched as Azari and Henry brought supplies from inside of the Quinjet, piling them outside. Francis and Tony were seated next to the heap of supplies, taking inventory. Francis had a paper in his hands and was pointing at some objects one at a time. From the look of them, they were either some sort of mechanical tool, or very small robots. Tony would pick up each one and inspect it, before laying it back down with the others. After the initial pile of stuff, they moved to inspecting a stack of collapsible tents, then to a pile of handheld tools that looked like the GPS system that SHIELD used. 

Sighing, Steve rested his elbows on his knees.

 

_Useless._

 

_I hate being useless._

 

Tony saw the movement and shot a glare at him, as though he could tell what Steve was thinking. Through his crazy hair and dark eyes, Tony looked like a wild man. A half-dressed wild man with a bad shoulder. 

Steve sighed again and looked around the forest for something else to focus on. The sun was starting to peek through the clouds that had been covering the sky. As the rays hit the soft leaves, the forest seemed to glow. 

 

_I wish they were here..._

 

It was another hour until the equipment was condensed and packed into backpacks. Tony, in a random act of kindness, had pulled a branch off of the fallen tree and stripped it of bark, creating the perfect walking stick for Steve. It wasn't perfect -as things rarely were in the wild- but it would do. 

Just as the team was starting to leave, Francis stopped dead in his tracks. 

Noticing his hesitation, Azari -who was leading the group- froze. 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" The archer asked, his head bowed. His hair shrouded his eyes, masking his expression from view. 

"Do we have a choice?" Replied Azari, his eyes narrowing, "there's  _nothing_  we can do, Francis.  _Nothing._ We don't have magical powers! We can't just snap our fingers and make them come back. Our best chance is to hope that they're alive and keep ourselves safe." 

"Right..." Francis said, setting his jaw and clenching his fists. 

"Sometimes that's all we can do," said Steve, thinking of his own situation. Everyone looked at him. 

 

_Great... I'm sure Tony labeled me as 'the leader' in this world too._

 

Slowly, Francis nodded but stayed put. Henry, his face masked by sadness, walked up to him and put his hand on the archer's shoulder. 

"I know you're worried about her," the smaller boy said, "but she's with James. Her  _dad_ is Thor! If anyone is going to get them out of trouble and back here safe, it's her! We just gotta trust them."

Steve watched the exchange with a heavy heart. 

 

_So young. They're all so young and they have to deal with such a cruel world... Maybe it's that, or it's Henry being so wise at such a young age...Hardship does do that to you..._

 

The party continued in silence, a small stream of sadness in the beautiful forest around them. As they made their way farther and farther, Steve found it was impossible to stay depressed. 

The forest was alive around them. Birds had begun to chirp and sing all around them in different calls than ones that Steve had ever heard. Small clover and flowers dotted the ground, without much dense underbrush to blot out the sun. The trees were all tall and strong, with vines hanging down from leafy branches. Though there was a lot above them, the sun still shone through with an incredible power, lighting the scenery with a golden light. 

Tony had commented earlier on how different everything was and Azari had almost laughed, replying to "look out for the dinosaurs". Steve didn't know if he was joking or not, but had simply kept quiet. 

No sooner had Steve begun to think back to the conversation, then Henry cried, "dinosaur!" 

Azari immediately dropped down into a crouch, continuing forwards like a cat, "careful everyone!" He hissed. 

Henry nodded to Francis and the two of them immediately took up flanking positions. About fifty feet to the group's right was a large stegosaurus, chewing slowly at a large plant on the ground. Two more were nearby, scanning the ground for food. 

"We're not too far away from the base," said Azari, "but this is, for the lack of better terms, major dino territory."

"When we were here last, the robots were still around. The dinosaurs hate the robots. The carnivores attack them and the others run. It's very helpful when you're trying to avoid robots too. The base is up there."   
Azari pointed upwards and Steve mentally groaned. He was exhausted from the walk. On normal terms, he would have had no difficulty walking this far, but then again, this wasn't 'normal terms'.

 

Through the trees, he could see a vertical cliff-face that was dotted with vines and patches of green. Here and there, rocks jutted out, creating expanses of grey on the reddish-brown surface. 

 

 

Picking up the pace, the group reached the cliff with no problem, Steve's condition had considerably worsened. His knees shook and sweat beaded his forehead. 

It had grown more and more difficult to stay in a good mood as well. He'd stopped noticing all the interesting, new plants and animals around them and instead was concentrating on just keeping his feet moving forwards. 

A few times, Tony had asked if he was doing alright, but he had ignored the questions. The other man seemed to be doing fine -the backpack meant for Steve- slung over his good shoulder. At first, Steve had carried the thing but quickly found that it chafed badly against his wound and had almost passed out before having it forcefully removed from him by the other man. 

"Damn you, Rodgers!" Had been the only words to describe the incident. 

 

Upon reaching the cliff, Steve promptly sat down hard, landing on the nearest rock that he could find. Now that he was no longer having to focus on moving, he was finally able to relax enough to get a good look around. 

 

The scenery hadn't changed much, other than the fact that they were at the bottom of this giant cliff...

 

"You alright, big guy?" Steve hadn't even heard Tony come over, but could only nod in reply. 

Pulling a water bottle (that they had filled from the Quinjet), Tony offered it to Steve. Accepting the small, round bottle, with gratitude. When he took a sip, the water was fresh and pure, unlike the city water that he was used to. 

Holding the bottle between his hands, he looked up at the cliff. 

"So the base is up there, huh?" Tony nodded, then looked down at Steve, concern written on his features, "you think you can make it up there? I don't want to be dragging your ass the whole way up there."

Steve let out a harsh laugh that made heads turn in his direction.

"Not like I have much choice, do I?"

Azari took a sip from his own bottle, then screwed the cap back on. Standing from where he had been seated on the ground, he pulled out a hunting knife. 

"There's an old set of steps up this thing. It's somewhere along this stretch. We should fan out and look. You-" He said, looking at Steve, "should probably stay here with Henry, he can get you out of here fast if trouble comes."

 

Francis immediately stood up and walked towards the right-hand cliff, "I got this side."

Azari nodded after him, "Tony and I will get this side then. Just be careful!" 

Motioning to Tony, the other boy turned and squinted up towards the cliff. 

Trees lined the lip of the drop, hanging their vines low over the edge. From the bottom, it looked as if the tree were hanging over the drop itself, like the branches of a willow tree. 

Tony stood and strode over to where Azari stood. Steve was surprised, the man was being quite obedient. For someone with that large an ego, it have been difficult to take orders from a kid, but the man was not showing it. 

In fact, it was quite strange, but Tony seemed to be... empty. 

He'd asked a few times about Steve's health and made comments here and there, something was different about him. It was something that Steve could not explain, something... was it similar to the way that Steve had been unable to tell Tony what had happened?

But that had been...

 

As Steve watched Tony's retreating form shrink into the distance, he began to get a bad feeling. Remembering their conversation about Ultron, he shuddered. He knew that it had been very disturbing to the man to realize that he was the one to destroy the world... 

 

_But still... that can't be the reason for this... it's like he's an empty shell..._

 

_What did she do? What did the Enchantress show him?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter -> Clint


	16. Flashback-Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bending Earth's Mightiest Heroes canon a bit here. Not too familiar with the mansion -as I said before- so I'm taking the liberty of changing some aspects. 
> 
> Been a while since I last wrote, so I apologize for any stylistic changes that may have occurred. I'm considering reworking this whole fic at some point so it will be fixed eventually.
> 
> So it has finally come! I have a diagram and a map of the rest of the chapters for this fic. I think it's time to finish it :P By the time this chapter is finished, I will have almost completed chapters 20-23, leaving only 17-19 for me to work on. Don't question it haha, I have found that it's easier to work on the different periods of time as a chunk: ex. -> 2 years in the future chapters (vs.) 40 yrs. in the future. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 2 Hours Prior...

 

_"We need to talk."_

_Carol had come knocking on Clint's door, a frown plastered her face, brow furrowed. Natasha stood behind her, arms folded. Both were dressed in casual street-clothing and sported similar hairstyles. A part of Clint wondered if they'd done each other's hair._

_Now that was a picture._

_Nodding, Clint grabbed his jacket off of his bed._

_"What's the news?" He asked, hoping to seem casual about the whole thing --and failing._

_The two exchanged looks._

_Carol spoke first, "there's a chance that we could solve this from our end... the whole thing."_

_Closing the door behind him, Clint felt his eyes go wide, "woah."_

_They turned down a hallway. Clint had -of course- toured the building, but he was still slightly unfamiliar with most of its bulk. He vaguely remembered that there were conference rooms somewhere and wondered if that was where they were headed. It turned out that he was correct. After taking an elevator down a few floors, their surroundings became more business-like and modern, dropping the 'warm' feeling that it had previously held._

_The hall was not that long, but was wide, similar to what Clint pictured a hotel lobby being like. Designer carpeting seemed to glow in the warm lighting, creating swirling red-gold patterns across the entire area. Closer to the elevator were smaller rooms that reminded Clint of bank cubicles, clearly for one-on-one meetings. Farther down the hallway, however, the sizes of the rooms grew, ending with a large expanse of dark wall on the left side, facing a 'lobby' of sorts. From the distance at which they stood, it was clear that the 'shielded' room was the largest. He guessed that it was the room for the serious discussions. Next to the elevator and along the sides of the room, small coffee tables sat, many of which accompanied by a soft stool. Small, white flowers decorated each glassy surface, a splash of color against the minimalistic decorating around them. Not a single window could be seen._

_"This is the conference wing," Carol commented, stating the obvious, "when SHEILD, government agents, or other people that don't live at the mansion come for business this is where we'll do it. Most of it is quite serious, as you can probably guess by the main conference room."_

_"Huh, I can tell," Clint scoffed, poking at one of the picture-perfect potted plants that sat atop a nearby coffee table, "keeping up the good image, am I right?"_

_Carol's lip curled into a smirk, "you should see Janet when she's in here. Can't get enough pictures. I let her take care of the decor."_

_"The flowers are a nice touch," Natasha observed, "brightens the place up a bit."_

_Humming in agreement, Clint finished his scan of the room._

_"Is there a reason why there are no windows?" He asked, "I know that they can sometimes be a hazard, but still..."_

_"We thought it best not to, this wing is the most heavily protected part of the mansion other than the armory and hanger bay," Carol explained, "any guests that we have are first priority. Pepper and I both talked it out and agreed."_

_Clint grunted, not quite agreeing with the logic, but accepting it anyway._

_Carol lead them towards one of the medium-sized rooms, hesitated, then strode into the largest room, holding the door for the pair behind her. As Clint stepped over the threshold, he felt everything go oddly muffled. He uttered a short gasp and heard his voice oddly in his ears._

_"This is strange," he muttered._

_"You have quite the security here," Natasha mused, her voice sounding lower than usual, "soundproof, shielding on the inner and outer walls, probably emergency protocols in the walls, that door is probably reinforced as well."_

_Grinning, Carol shut the door with a click -or rather a very loud 'click', that is._

_"All correct, Romanov."_

_The table was perfectly round and made of a dark glass. Clint recognized that it was all one large screen. A small projector sat in the middle, along with what looked like the light controls for the room. He pulled back a fancy leather chair, admiring how fancy it was. Upon taking it, he groaned._

_I could fall asleep right now, right here._

_Natasha sat on his left and Carol across from him._

_Not wasting any time, the Captain began to explain the situation._

_"I was talking to Stephen earlier today and he said that he'd be willing to try something riskier than anything we've ever attempted before. I'm not saying I'm thrilled about this... but he's willing to try it."_

_She paused and Natasha nodded to her, "go on."_

_"I told you that he's been one of our leading ties into locating time breaches -anomalies. Well, he thinks that the next time that Enchantress comes here, he'll be able to catch up to her. He feels that it might be a shot at getting to that time device that she's got."_

_"Do you think he stands a chance?" Asked Clint, "I mean, Natasha's seen her in action and it seemed like she was pretty powerful."_

_Natasha nodded again, clarifying what he'd just said._

_"Strange says that if anything goes wrong, there's a good chance that he'll be able to get back out before anything catastrophic happens. According to our readings, it takes an incredible amount of power to support a portal. Since we're talking about a living being, here, the energy is probably coming from her body -or from some item physically on her. Let me remind you, that we're not exactly equipped to handle much when it comes to magic."_

_"So you're saying that we just leave it up to Strange?" Clint asked, his voice incredulous._

_"I'm asking you to let him try," the Captain's eyes bored into his._

_Lost for words, Clint rubbed his finger on the arm of the desk chair. He shook his head, eyes lowered. In his peripheral vision, he saw Carol lean back and fold her arms._

_"Look, I know you trust Strange but is this really for the best?" Natasha asked, looking at Carol, "I've seen that woman kill friends of mine without mercy, throw them through time, I-"_

_She shook her head._

_"Does he really know what he's offering to do? He could die!"_

_Carol smiled, "he knew you'd say that."_

_"He knew that we'd say no?" Clint demanded, "we can't ask someone to fight our battle-"_

_Eyes flashing, Carol interrupted him, "It's not just your battle!" She almost yelled._

_Clint's eyes flicked up at her, surprised._

_"You weren't there," she said, eyes clouding with memory, "crisis after crisis followed New York. We had issues from smugglers creating weapons out of old Chitauri tech, to world-threatening cases like AIM and Dr. Doom. Then I got my powers..."_

_Carol looked down at her hands, "it was horrible. Scott and Wasp were the first to join SHIELD when they called. Only days later, I was added to the list as well. Panther, the X-men -they came later. We had the help, but it took both of those years to build back from nothing. Earth was jeopardized over and over because of what that woman did, hell, we thought that you'd all died. We had nothing."_

_Looking hard at Clint, the woman's face softened, "you're wrong, do you see it, Barton? It's not just your fight. You and the original Avengers were so much more than you know. Me? I'm just a girl who was in the military and ended up in an accident... These people I'm leading now could have been lead by Captain America -should have been. When we needed that help so desperately, it just wasn't there. That help was taken, those-you people were taken. That's something that we need to fix. I say we draw that line here."_

_"I still don't like the idea of this," Natasha said, "there's so much at stake..." Her voice trailed off._

_A smile crept up Carol's face and a spark entered her eyes, "that's why I'm not leaving the decision up to you."_

_"What?" Clint asked, the word coming out as more of a cough._

_Smirking, Carol took her time to respond, "well, he did say that he knew what your answers would be. The next time Enchantress appears he's going in, no matter what. He is going to bring back your Avengers, no matter what the cost."_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short Update? I know and I'm sorry. Next ones will be longer, I promise!
> 
> As always, comments, questions, and kudos are always appreciated <3


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